Spyro: Ascension to Legend
by DragonWithSword
Summary: In a re-telling of the Legend of Spyro trilogy, Spyro is a purple dragon unknowing of his power as he fights to survive as the Dark Master's powerful armies run rampant on their conquest. After a chance meeting with a dragoness named Cynder, he is thrust into an adventure to stop Malefor and discover the truth behind the legend of the purple dragon. Rated M for Violence and Themes.
1. Nova Lumia

Short Note: Hello, this is my first fic so if there is any corrections you think I should make (Grammar, format, etc.) please write a review letting me know how to improve. Thank you so much for reading and allowing me to improve my writing, hope you enjoy!

Spyro: Ascension to Legend

Apparently before the existence of our barbaric, motley generation of dragons, we had been a powerful empire, one that ruled over from the shimmering seas past Dragon Shores to the desolate tundras of Dante's freezer. Apparently, we had a huge army numbering in the hundreds of thousands and lead by the great heroes who conquered territory after territory from the apes, wyverns, and other creatures who dare opposed us. Apparently, at our helm were the emperors chosen by the stars- the great purple dragons clad in elaborate armor expertly wielding the elements bestowed upon dragon kind by the creators of the world itself. "So if that's true. How the hell did it end up like this?" Spyro swore to himself as he strained to get up from the comfortable confines of his bed. Outside his dusty window, the sun was barely up, the light still dim and red against the sky. He was already used to this though and pulled himself from the covers. The wooden floorboards under his feet creaked as the young dragon groggily got up and traversed the narrow confines of his barren room. He stepped into a crudely build wooden stall just outside and stared at the mirror, grimacing at his haggled appearance before brushing out his sharp teeth and pulling a lever, shivering as a drizzle of cold water washed over his scales. Commodities like a working water system was rare in the city of Nova Lumina, the war having broken not just the people, but the homes and services as well. For now, having a cold shower would have to do, it did wonders towards waking him up and preparing his concentration for another day at the workshop.

"Plus, he reminded himself, it just makes that occasional hot shower feel so much better." He stepped out and dried himself, smiling slightly at himself in the mirror, "At least I can look apart from this hellhole.

In the room adjacent to his cramped bedroom lay the only other room in his dwelling: A simple kitchen and living room all in one. He opened his pantry, groaning in annoyance when he saw a few jugs of milk and some gruel leftover from the previous day. "Whatever." Spyro sighed and grabbed the bowl of gruel and poured himself some milk. Finishing the light breakfast quickly, he donned on a simple gray cape, grabbed his leather pouch, and exited his small dwelling, just one in a whole cluster of shambly built homes made by the refugees from the war and walked down through the dirty streets towards the center of the town, where the weapon smith was located. As he passed through the broken buildings, he saw dragons, mole, cheetahs, apes, and other races alike lining the streets idly, begging for work and money after having lost everything. He pitied these people but he knew that his own condition was hardly better. If it wasn't for the demand of weapons by the Legionnes and the various street gangs that formed, he would have probably ended up much like them.

Speaking of street gangs… He narrowed his eyes at a group of dragons ahead of him, clustered in the road. There was a good dozen of them, gruff looking with an assortment of scars contrasting against the assorted colors of their scales. A tattoo of a white hawk standing over a dead raven was imprinted on the necks of every one of them, signaling their allegiance to the Wings of Liberation, the supposed representative to the people and beacon of light in the sea of darkness that befell the city. In actuality, they were nothing more than a band of drunkards and criminals who abuse their own power to get their way. The only reason why people even put up with them was because they did in some occasions launch ambushes against the Legionnes patrols that were foolish enough to venture deep into the contested portions of the city. The fallacy that the Wings preached attracted a large following immediately after the war and subsequently, their ranks swelled when the army officially left. Now they numbered close to two thousand, dispersed throughout the city where they instituted their own laws "for the interests of the oppressed." Spyro shuddered when he remembered the story about how more than often young dragonesses were snatched out of the streets where they were rewarded "a stable income"- which to an extent was true when many a dragon would find themselves locking eyes with a familiar face or two in some underground brothel or tavern. In other cases, skilled workers would also be abducted- some even from their own homes- to serve in keeping together the commodities and arsenal that the Wings needed to upkeep their control over the areas that the Dark Master couldn't or didn't bother to stamp down with the fists of his Legionnes.

Spyro watched out of the corner of his eyes as a blue ice dragon with a long set of scars down his neck whisper something into the ear of a fire dragon, who in turn cast a quick glance at him. A moment later, the same fire dragon along with two comrades fell in step behind the purple drake. Spyro carefully followed their movements, wary of a confrontation.

The random pedestrians around him either dispersed or looked away, aware that any interference would likely cost them their heads. The smith shop was right around the corner and Spyro quickened the pace and subconsciously shifted his cape to easily access the pouch around his waist. He knew the blue dragon well- in fact, it had been he who gave him those scars a year ago when he lead a group of wings to capture him and put him in their labor force. What they had not counted on was the fact that Spyro- in his years working in the foundry- had learned how the fight in his free time and in the course of five minutes, two dragons laid knocked out in the streets and the blue dragon himself limped home with a new set of scar. Obviously, he had been promoted recently and subsequently sought revenge after the purple dragon. Spyro glanced behind him as he rounded the last corner.

"They're getting closer" he muttered before turning- only to get pommeled across the face by the iron base of a spear, throwing him sideways and against the stone wall of a house- or rather the remains of one. Spyro looked up to see a large dragon with silver lined black armor peering down at him through a decorated helm with a purple crest blooming over it. Behind him, a column of a score of dragons, cheetahs, apes, and even a griffon all blankly stared at the purple dragon who stared back with wide eyes. His purple eyes reflected off of two emerald ones for a split second as he spotted who appeared to be a new recruit with her visor raised. "Oi there he is, sick 'im boys!" The heads turned to the three dragons who rounded the corner, poised to leap onto their target. Their yells died in their throats as the gazes of twenty legionaries fell upon them. Swiftly, the commander made a hand gesture and immediately, the group surrounded the four dragons. Pedestrians, attracted to the commotion, ventured to watch the occurrence, eager for action. Spyro even caught glances as people traded bets and frankly, most weren't for his side.

"You want him? Get him." The dragon from before, whom Spyro presumed was the centurion, spoke. For some reason, his voice sounded too old and wise to be the leader of the brutal killing machine that was the Legionnes… Spyro almost got caught be the first swing of the fire dragon that had pursued him. Instinct had him quickly raise his arm to black against another wild swing. He backed up, attempting to regain his balance after being caught off guard. Another dragon was waiting for him and with a grunt, Spyro felt himself get socked into the ground. "Ugghh…" Spyro groaned as he felt a new bruise form on his shoulder and yelped when the third dragon attempted to stomp his head in. Spyro rolled out of the way and kicked with his front paws, knocking the dragon down onto the ground before rolling to his feet. This time, he was ready when the fire dragon swiped at him and ducked, spinning and knocking him off balance with his tail and kicking him hard against chest. An audible "oomph" was heard when he hit the ground, kicking up dust.

Out of the corner of his eye, another dragon swung at him and he barreled under the fist, colliding with the second dragon and gauging in a deep swipe against his stomach with his claws. The dragon howled with agony and clutched his wound, leaving his face open for a new set of claw marks before Spyro was roughly dragged into the ground by the dragon he had first knocked down. He struggled as his attacker attempted to hold him down and wildly stabbed with his tail, earning him a pained grunt as the dragon suddenly went limp as he was impaled in the back. Spyro threw the weight off him just in time to catch a blow to the face from the fire dragon. He dizzily ducked under another blow before throwing a claw of his own. The clumsily blow was easily parried and the dragon charged into his chest, nearly throwing him into the surrounding legionaries , who sidestepped to avoid getting rammed. The fire dragon stomped forcefully on his tail, causing Spyro to hiss with pain before he grabbed the dragon by his horns and rolled backwards, letting his own momentum and a powerful kick throw him over his shoulder and onto his back. The dragon grunted and scrambled to free himself, thrashing wildly before Spyro punched him on his exposed throat, making him shudder and fall limp.

Spyro scrambled up clumsily, still reeling against the blow to his head. In the gathered crowd, he could hear a chorus of dissatisfied groans and complaints as many lost a good sum of their day's wages. They quickly dispersed however when the legionaries lowered their spears and shields and soon the cobblestone street only sounded of the clacks of black steel.

"You fight well young dragon." The centurion approached him. Spyro opened his mouth to reply when the pommel of another spear wacked him across the face, knocking him sideways. "Kneel before the commander!" Another dragon snarled at him. "Leftenant Arryn apologize and help this dragon to his feet." The commander swiftly ordered. "But!" The Leftenant protested but was silenced when the commander lowered his spear to point between his eyes.

"Are you conducting insubordination?" "N-No Sir!" The dragon picked Spyro up by the arm and unceremoniously plopped him onto his feet, glaring as the purple dragon snidely stuck his tongue out at him. "And?" The Centurion continued. Leftenant Arryn gritted his teeth. "I-I apologize." He seethed. "Good, now return to your ranks. "Yes Commander Corryn." The dragon swiftly returned to his position, glaring hotly at the back of his commander's head.

"Now, recruit Cynder, treat him for his wounds. One of the two recruits following the squad stepped forward, it was the dragoness that Spyro had seen earlier. She carefully his bruise and pulled a vial of green paste from a satchel and applied it gently over it before doing the same on a wound on his forehead. Immediately Spyro felt the pain numb and he nodded his thanks to her. Cynder cast him a quick glance before returning to the ranks. "Who taught you how to fight?" Corryn peered down at him. "I taught myself." Spyro answered the question as concisely as possible. "Really? Then I must say you've done yourself an excellent job." He smiled, to Spyro's great surprise. The tales about how the Shadow Legionnes brutally slaughtered anyone in their way didn't seem to match the description of the dragon standing before him.

"Thank you sir." He replied, unsure what to make of this situation. A minute ago he was just thrust into a fight to the death by this dragon and now he was applauding him?

"And you know your manners too! Tell you what young dragon, how would like for a position within the ranks of the Legionnes?" The sudden proposition froze the purple dragon momentarily.

"I uh, I think it's a generous offer sir, but I've already devoted myself to a profession sir." Corryn narrowed his eyes momentarily,

"Of course, take your time to decide, I will expect an answer latter." Spyro quickly nodded and scrambled away, not giving the soldiers a second glance before he turned another corner and entered the Smith Shop from the back door out of view. He breathed heavily and retained his composure, stepping into the main room of the smith where the oak walls were lined with swords waiting to be repaired. "Eventful way to start the day no?" An old blue cheetah with a peg leg and arm hobbled through the doorway from a tiny office hidden amongst piles of stacked weapons. "I should chastise you for getting into trouble with the Wings, but I just netted an extra three dozen gold coins because of your efforts the old cheetah held up three bags full of coins and tossed one to Spyro. "A small reward for your actions lad." Spyro pocketed the money gratefully

"Thank you Hunter" and walked over to his tools of trade, looking up at his mentor surprised when he saw another stack of a dozen gold coins on his table.

"What is this for?" Spyro asked. Hunter looked back and spotted the gold. "Oh, that's your first payment of advanced salary for this season, haven't you forgotten? Today's the first day of the season of fire.

Spyro looked at him momentarily before it clicked in his mind. "Oh yeah! Thank you sir, but I'm afraid you've given me four coins too many." He looked down at the twelve coins splayed before him. The old cheetah just shook his head and turned to walk back into his office. "Bloody lad doesn't even have the brains to remember his own hatch day."

Spyro carefully inspected the blade of a sharp one sided short sword. One of the reasons why the Wings hadn't already decided to kill him already was definitely his eye for detail. After he had arrived at Nova Lumina five years ago after Warfang fell to the Dark Master, penniless and parentless, he was forced to roam the then bustling streets, scavenging a living for himself. His father had been a Captain in the Warfanian Iron Guard, an elite branch within the Royal Guard soldiers. Spyro was only just past his twelfth hatch day when they had heard the news. A horde of grublins, ogres and orcs had launched a mass attack on the city through the hidden catacombs, a task thought impossible due to the lack of knowledge possessed by the enemy. His father had been one of the soldiers tasked with the defense and managed to hold off the first wave of almost a thousand attackers with only thirty fighters. By the time the rest of the army had mobilized to launch a counter attack tough the buried ruins of old Warfang, the original thirty was cut down to ten. The remaining soldiers enclosed themselves into the remnants of the old temple within the catacombs, fighting tooth and claw through every hallway, one by one dying to save the lives of their brothers. When the army retook the catacombs, they found the gruesome sight of hundreds of dead grublins clogging the hallways of the old catacomb. As the rescue teams cleared away the bodies they uncovered one by one the corpses of eight dragons. At the very center of the temple, in the old hatchery and birthplace of Malefor, were the last two. According to the rescue team, his father had died taking the arrows meant for one of his fellow Iron Guard and had allowed for her to live. Out of the thirty dragons defending, she was the only survivor. Of course, when his mother heard of this, she broke.

A month later, when the Dark Master's forces were virtually overrunning the defenders on the wall, his mother secretly snuck out into the surrounding forest and left Warfang for Nova Lumina, one of the last free cities. She had almost made it. A week into the journey they had met up with a small band of refugees also escaping certain destruction. The band, lacking supplies, had tried their best to find food along the way but by the third week, half the dragons were already too weak to move. Clashes broke out over the remaining scraps of food and in their desperation, the survivors turned on one another. Spyro remembered vividly as former friends ripped each other's throats out, how two young drakes, a brother and sister, had managed to sneak out a few thin slices of dried meat only to be beset upon by their own older siblings. "Brothers Sisters! We have food, we can all eat!" Their cries of desperation turned into agony as they were shredded in a tangle of claws and blades. His mother had escaped with him in her arms. She flew for almost a day nonstop, without food and rarely water. The struggle took its toll on her wary body. Her wings were torn and her tail had a chunk missing so large that the end only dangled uselessly.

"Mommy, I got you water!" Spyro remembered vividly how his mother had stopped under the shade of a giant oak tree, the tallest in the forest and collapsed. Her wound became infected and over the course of a day, her mind, weighed down by the horrors of war and the death of her love, finally fell apart.

"You useless shit! Just go off and die already! You've killed me! You've killed me you insolent whelp!" She lunged at him, her razor sharp canines snapping shut a few centimeters away from his face. Spyro ran. He ran and ran until he could run no more. A scouting party from Nova Lumina had picked him up on the side of the road on their way back from Warfang and carried him to the city, where he was left by himself. He wandered the streets for nearly a month, picking up the leftovers left uncared for by the stall owners at the marketplace.

"Hey you! Get back here!" An ape stall owner chased the small dragon through the marketplace, cursing as the thief ducked into a narrow alleyway and rounded a corner out of sight.

Breathless, the Ape gave up and returned to his stall, howling when he realized in his absence that another loaf of bread had gone missing. Spyro leaned back and sighed. He was hidden in an abandoned shop, the unused counter having been caked with dust years ago. Spyro smacked his lips and got out the piece of bread before taking a hungry bite.

"Hey you gonna finish that?" A voice peeped from behind the remnants of a couch, causing Spyro to jolt awake.

Spyro held back a cry when he plunged a heavy broadsword into the furnace without gloves on, even his tough scales failing to blocked out the pain as a few smoldering sparks landed on his paw. He seethed at the searing pain but kept the sword in place, carefully draping a nearby cloth over his paw when he stamped on the blower, throwing another cloud of embers into the air before pulling the glowing blade back out and setting it down on a nearby anvil. "Young Spyro, I heard something, are you all right?" Hunter stepped out of the doorway of his office. "Yeah, just a slight burn." He replied back to the cheetah. Hunter nodded and turned before stopping. "You know, every time you get involved in a scuffle with the wings I normally get a visit by Rayze and his cronies." Spyro looked up from his hammering. "You mean they haven't shown up yet?" Spyro raised his eyebrow. "Nope, shame really, I've got a few welcoming biscuits and whiskey for them." His amused tone grew serious. "Still Spyro, what yourself out there. For now you are too valuable of an asset for them to burn but there are many other blacksmiths in the city. Your friend in can only do so much so if the Lightnings ever come asking for your head there's only so much I can do for you. I'm not as young nor am I as skilled a swordsman anymore." Spyro nodded. "Yes, I understand, don't worry about me Hunter, make sure you're safe first. No doubt if I become a wanted dragon they will come for you as well." The old cheetah nodded, satisfied. "Well at least you're capable of some decent thinking." He chuckled and turned again, suddenly whipping out a rapier and lunging at the purple dragon, who caught off guard, quickly grabbed a one sided dagger from the wall in time to parry the thrust. "We haven't had lessons in a while Spyro, show me how good you've become!"

"Chapter one and two! Form up and prepare to move out! Chapter Two is stranded in District Four, reported three casualties, one dead, reported forty Wings launching attacks from all sides with additional support from civilian populace." A Centurion gathered two chapters of a score of legionaries and took to the air, the formation of dragons and griffons armed with swords and shields took to the air from the imperial embassy in the middle of the city. In the distance a column of smoke rose up over the refugee district of the city. "Send a falcon, report that reinforcements will arrive within fifteen minutes!" Wordlessly d legionary pulled up a box he carried on his back, scribbled a message onto a paper, and attached it to the leg of a falcon in the box and letting it loose.

Spyro ducked under another lunge from Hunter and retaliated with two swift slashes at the cheetah's exposed stomach. Outside, the noise of wing beats permeated through the open windows of the forge, causing Spyro to look up. It was uncommon to hear incoming dragons from the city center other than the occasional Legionnes patrol and never do they show in force. The purple drake poked his head out of the window to catch the glimpse of forty dragons in glossy black steel armor zoom over the forge. He turned back only to have the point of the rapier press against his throat.

"Tsk tsk young dragon, distractions during battle kills." Hunter frowned at him. "There's two Legionnes chapters out there, they just flew over us and it looks like they're heading towards the refugee district. Spyro exclaimed. Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's quite uncommon, I wonder what's going on…" Three sharp rasps sounded against the front door and the cheetah shot Spyro a glance. "It looks like our friends from the Wings are finally here." He sheathed his rapier and whipped off the beads of sweat hanging on the tip of his fur. "Yes yes, coming!" He called out and pulled open the heavy oak door. "Ah yes, my old friends, how may I… oh? Akyla? What are you doing here?" At the mention of the name Spyro perked up and joined his mentor at the door. A dark yellow dragoness in chain armour stood at the doorway.

Akyla had once been a soldier for the Iron Guard, coincidentally the sole survivor of the defense of the catacombs and the sole remaining Iron Guard to make it out of Warfang. She had been part of the convoy who found Spyro and took him to the city to "pay back her debt to his father." Her skill and notoriety did not go unnoticed and she had been quickly taken into the ranks of the garrison. When Nova Lumina finally broke from the siege, she became one of the first commanders of the Wings of Liberation.

"Hello young Spyro, I haven't seen you for a while." Her normally serious expression softened at the face of the purple drake. "I wanted to talk to you so badly, watching you grow up is one of the happiest things in my life." Her serious expression returned. "However, now is not the time, we need some swords and lances… and any armour you've got. Hunter looked at her perplexed. "What? It's only been half a day, we've finished only two dozen swords, a dozen lances, and we're still refurbishing our fourth set of mail. Akyla thought for a moment. "Have you got any ready in the shop? The Wings gave me a blank check and there's quite enough to cover the cost." Hunter shrugged and gestured for her to come in. "Wait real quick, we've got plenty of swords and lances in the shop and a dozen set of mail and plates. Akyla nodded gratefully and waited as the dragon and cheetah went to fetch the finished weapons. Within minutes, they had procured some three dozen swords, twenty lances, a dozen sets of chain armor, and two plated armor. These Akyla gave to two officers waiting outside and gave them each a bag of weapons. They nodded to her and flew off. Akyla grabbed her own bag and was about to follow when Spyro tapped her on her shoulder. "Wait, Akyla, I've got something for you." Spyro gestured for her to follow. "It's important." He added when he caught her rushed expression. She nodded and turned. "Hurry young one, I've got an appointment that I can't be late for." Spyro nodded and lead her to the back room and blew fire on a torch hanging from the wall. Akyla's eyes widened when her eyes fell upon a set of white plate armor carefully polished and forged.

"Is that…" "Yeah, made it especially for you." Spyro gleamed at her surprised face. "Here, he tossed her the helmet, try it on." The dragoness undid the latches on her mail, letting the chains slide off her lean build before allowing Spyro to fit the other pieces onto her chest, waist, and tail. The armor clicked sharply as she flexed and stretched. "Very nice fit, what is it made off?" Spyro smirked. "Black Steel." Akyla's eyes widened. "You mean like the Legionnes' armour?" "Yep!" Spyro smiled and handed her the last piece of equipment, a two sided short sword made out of the same material. "Amazing, just like what I had in the Iron Guard." The dragoness smiled and wrapped the small drake tightly in a hug. "Oh my, you've grown so much, tell ya what, after my uh… appointment, I'll stop by again, I've missed out too much on your life. Spyro gasped in her tight grip, making her loosen and drop him. "Oops sorry." She apologized sheepishly and walked out, stopping in front of Hunter to drop a few bag of gold into his paws. "This should be enough, I'll pay you the cost for the repairs when I've brought back the damaged ones." The cheetah looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Just what exactly do you need all this for?" Akyla laughed and replied. "Oh just some advanced training with real weapons. We're getting larger and larger every day and it's time we showed our new recruits what wings of steel really means." She quoted the motto of her allegiance and exited, grabbing the bag and taking off. "Oh and remember, if you've got trouble with some of our lower members, just tell me!" Her tinkling laugh faded as she disappeared over the rooftops.

Spyro frowned, something was off about her today. He shrugged off the feeling of uncertainty and returned to the forge, grabbing another damaged sword and spun up the sharpening stone before suddenly stopping.

"What did she say she needed the weapons for?" Spyro turned to Hunter.

"Why training of course." The cheetah muttered and scratched his chin. "Yes, she flew towards the refugee district but the underground base is in the dust district…" He spoke under his breath, barely loud enough for Spyro to hear.

"Looks like someone isn't entirely truthful…" He looked at the purple dragon, who nodded. "Well whatever it is that the wings want, it is no affairs of ours, we simply work to make a living. He looked at the heavy bag on the counter. "And this will cover for more than a few months of nice living." Spyro went back to work, deciding to ask more on the topic when Akyla returned.


	2. Fire!

As the night fell, the occurrences became stranger and stranger. At first Spyro failed to notice the sudden influx of traffic heading towards the refugee district and the alarming increase in the beats of Legionaries over the roof. Throughout the evening, dragons from multiple gangs came by to purchase the goods that they had available, from maces to lances. On a normal day, Hunter would have gleefully indulged himself into counting the increasing piles of gold but now, the depleted amount of weapons in his shop only served to unnerve him more. What had these dragons needed with these weapons all the sudden?" An obvious answer kept appearing in his kind. "Open rebellion" he muttered. But if so, then how had he not known about it? The last of the falcons he had sent to the other metal smiths reported the same condition yet none of them knew what to make of this situation. To think that the resistance could have incited such a massive feet without triggering any of the Dark Master's informants seemed unlikely. The spies that his generals employed were the best and the Wings knew it. As daft as some of the street thugs were, many of the commanders had once lead troops to battle and knew from experience the dangers of not knowing the powers of the enemy. He jumped when two loud "_BANGS!_" Echoed in the distance, slowly the fear in the pit of his stomach manifesting itself.

Spyro ran to him from outside. "Master Hunter, we're all out of steel!" "What? But I made sure that our inventories were full this morning!" Spyro shook his head. "They were, but the massive amounts of buyers today was just phenomenal." "Well, what do you think of now?" Hunter responded, unsure of what to make of this situation. Spyro shrugged and replied. "Well I'm thinking about heading home. The night's almost here and I've still got a hatch day to celebrate." He added the last part with a grin. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here? It will be much safer from the gangs and the soldiers." Spyro shook his head. "Thanks Hunter, but I have a home to maintain and plus, I'm quite curious as to where Akyla is. Spyro frowned. "It's unlike her to break a promise, I've got to check if everything's alright." Hunter nodded. "Alright then lad, stay safe out there, you're worth too much gold!" Spyro chuckled and opened the door. "You too Hunter." The broken streets were eerily empty when Spyro walked passed them, with only the occasional living being peeking out from the shadows at the lone dragon walking down the street. The lamps remained unlit, an unusual occurrence as normally the citizens would all put in effort to light up the streets. He sighed and opened his wings. It would be much quicker to just fly back.

Fire.

It was all on Fire.

The smell of smoke clog Spyro's nostrils as he rushed past waves of fleeing civilians. The loud BOOMs of cannon fire rang down over the already broken buildings. Yells of pain and agony erupted every time shrapnel found itself a target, be the young or old. He had already past his own house some time ago but with the sounds of battle drawing his curiosity, he had ventured further and was now stuck in this hell hole. Spyro immediately worried about Akyla's safety. A few feet in front of him lay a body. He looked down and noticed the tattoo of a hawk on his neck. A Wing. He leapt over the body and noticed how the dragon seemed to be barely older than he was, the life sucked out of him by a single shard of metal sticking out of his forehead. Spyro shuddered at the sight and rushed even quicker towards where he could hear yells and screams. Suddenly, the civilians stopped and were replaced by soldiers, not Legionnes but resistance fighters, all conglomerating towards the direction Spyro seemed to be headed. Another body appeared in front of him, then another and another, all in the cheap mail armor provided by the Wings. His foot clanged something and he looked down. A piece of a Centurion helmet lay crushed on the street, the once proud frill not shredded and torn. Spyro continued forward when a whirling sound overhead caught his attention. "Shit!" The dragon dove away as a cannon ball impacted a few yard in front, throwing shrapnel everywhere. Spyro flew backwards and hit the ground hard. His vision flashed before turning black.

He was in the middle of it all. Spyro groggily looked around him Instead of seeing resistance, the dragons in the mass melee around him were clad in Black steel, a banner close by displaying a golden 4 against a black background. "These are from the second Legionnes!" Spyro realized. Around him he realized that the soldiers were all gathered around in set of phalanxes. The ones with swords stood in front while the spearmen were right behind them, their pointed weapons deterring all but the bravest of militia. Meanwhile, above him, the battle raged just as fiercely as multi colored elements from both sides rocketed across the sky and the occasional dragon fell, dying to the impact if the enemy hadn't killed them. He sat up and shook himself awake, looking for the best place to slink out of the lines. To his right, he could see a band of recruits hold the line with a few Legionaries . He squinted, recognizing the black dragoness he had seen before appeared to be one of them. He watched as she parried the blow from a charging fighter and engulf him with a blast of shadow fire, an element he rarely witnessed. The Legionaries appeared to be winning as they slowly pushed back against the surrounding resistance fighters until in the distance, he could make out a familiar voice yell:

"Loose!" In the last lights of the sun, a cloud of arrows soared high into the sky. Spyro's eyes widened and he looked around and dove under the corpse of a full grown dragon just as the sound of iron against steel showered the battlefield. The Legionaries , too engrossed with their frontal defense, failed to see the arrows until too late and while their armored protected most of their bodies, there were still enough to fit between the cracks and unprotected areas. A chorus of yells and screams erupted around him as hundreds of Legionaries fell to the ground, some dead, some dying. Immiedietly the ranks closed as the survivors rushed to fill in the ranks of the dead… too late. Akyla herself barrled into the front lines, knocking over two soldiers and slashing both through the throat in one quick sweep. Behind her came pouring the ranks of the Lightnings, the fabled group said to have consisted of the survivors of the Royal Guards. These dragons were clad not in mail but in full white plates. They punched through the lines and swiftly began to wreak havoc from behind, allowing the normal Wing soldiers to charge the front. With the Legionnes lines broken, the entire situation fell apart and the previously organized ranks fell apart into a massive ball of steel and blood. A figure stepped beside him, marching towards Akyla. Spyro looked up and caught the sight of a large blue dragon. "The Centurion from earlier." Spyro whispered as he pulled out a sword, pointed it at Akyla, and roared a challenge. The white clad dragoness immediately saw the challenge and pushed through two of her men, picking up speed before charging, throwing her blade over her shoulder in a devastating downward slice. Spyro looked back at the black dragoness. To his relief, she stood unscathed, the arrows having been blocked by the dragon beside her, who now lay motionless on the ground. She looked confused momentarily, shocked before throwing off her helm and kneeling beside the other recruit. A roar behind him made him look backwards in time to duck under the swing from a Legionary.

The dragon- Gryphon Spyro corrected himself as he caught site of a beak under the helmet, swung again, narrowly missing. "Hey stop! I'm not one of them!" Spyro cried out, backing away as fast as possible from a flurry of wild swings. The Gryphon screeched and used his wings to propel at the purple dragon, slicing his arm when he couldn't dodge fast enough. Spyro winced and realized that for now, it was either fight or die. He grabbed a sword from a fallen soldier and pointed it in front of him. The gryphon screeched again and raised the sword. A shower of blood splattered over Spyros face as the point of a spear exploded out of the gryphon's back. It cried out painfully and fell, chocking as blood filled his lungs. Akyla stood where he fell and silenced the creature with another thrust of her spear.

"Spyro! What are you doing, get out of here!" She frowned at him through her helmet. "Are you insane? You've got no armour or weapons!" Spyro glared at her. "Yeah, I wasn't quite expecting a full on battle happening ten minutes from my house either!" He looked around, the battle was still raging hard. The well trained Legionaries - though having lost half of their soldiers, still fought on, easily taking on two or even three militia at the same time. The Lightnings fared better, splitting into phalanxes and clashing head to head against the Legionnes formations. "Some training you've got going on here. You realize that the moment the Legionaries get overrun command will bomb this place to bits right?" Skyla grinned. "That's why we're making sure to take prisoners." She gestured around and Spyro could see that whenever a black clad soldier was overwhelmed, the militia would hurridly knock them out and drag away their bodies, well most of the time. Spyro grimaced as some without hesitation ran their swords through the exposed bellies of their foes. "The Dark Master will not care for the lives of his men." Akyla parried away a blow from a dragon and punched him across the face when he tried to throw a ball of earth at her before knocking him out cold with the hilt of her sword. Her armored escorts quickly surrounded the body, denying the enraged Legionaries the opportunity to rescue their fallen comrade.

"You're wrong, he didn't care for the lives of the brainless minions such as the grublins. He's a dragon and still cares for his kind." Spyro cocked his head, unsure of this new revelation but decided to mention it again when there weren't swords flying everywhere. Around them the battle seemed to be winding down. The last pockets of resistance either being captured or slain. Of the few hundred Legionaries Spyro had seen before the battle, there only seemed to be less than a score left still alive and uncaptured, huddled in a circle and surrounded on all sides. Akyla smirked. "We have them right where we want them." She looked at Spyro.

"Go home, I know you're not aligned with the Wings in any way, though it would be most beneficial if you were, if you stay here you'll be targeted by the Dark Master along with us." "We are going to retake the city one way or another and now that we have some of the best generals the Legionnes has, we've got enough leverage to make it happen." Spyro nodded and walked off, making sure to step around the numerous bodies. He shuddered at the sight of a Legionary's body, pincussioned by arrows. Behind him he listened as Akyla stepped before the remaining defenders. "Soldiers! There is no way for you to get the happy ending…" The rest of her words were jumbled as his hearing was drowned out by the kicking and screaming of prisoners being marched under guard up over the walls. He accidently bumped into a dragon. "Excuse me sir-"His eyes caught the icy glare of a dark blue dragon with a long set of scars trailing down his neck. He was pulling a tarp covered wagon behind him along with two escorts. The cage rattled slightly and Spyro assumed it carried more prisoners. The two dragons stared at each other and for a brief instant, their eyes reflected the mutual despise. He grinned sadistically. "Well if it isn't Smith Apprentice Spyro… How have you been?" Spyro kept his expression mutual. "No doubt better than you Rayze, it's been quite a long while since I had to steal food from the stalls like a rat." He narrowly dodged a swipe aimed for his throat. "Watch you're fucking tongue whelp, else ya might lose it."

He pulled out his single edged cleaver, smeared with blood and placed it under the purple dragon's chin. "Who knows, I might even do it now." Spyro stood unfazed and brushed aside the weapon. "And the moment you do Akyla will have your head." At the mention of the yellow dragoness Rayze's smug expression soured. He stood there silently glowering for a moment before sheathing his sword. Spyro smirked. "Aww, such a shame, your only chance of spilling actual dragon blood-gone." Spyro grinned smugly as Rayze's eyes widened briefly. "How did you… You know what, I don't have to deal with you filth, I've at least got a fucking good time to look forward too. He shook the cage roughly, causing a pained whimper from its occupant. "Come on boys, let's get 'er to the shack." He cackled and gave Spyro a rough shove. "Perhaps if ya decide to work for me I'll let ya in on the fun next time." "You can't take the prisoners Rayze." Spyro warned. "Akyla will not be happy. "Akyla can come to me about it later, maybe I'll even show her some… talent." He laughed and again shoved Spyro roughly into the ground before walking away, his escorts towing the cage away. Spyro shook himself, he'll see to it that Akyla hears about this tomorrow. He turned towards his own home. Still though… letting those thugs continue didn't settle well. Spyro looked back at them just rounding a corner out of sight. Spyro bit his lip but pulled his bag out from under his cape. From it he pulled out two steel gauntlets and snapped them onto his forearms before scampering to follow Rayze.

Cynder grumbled as another bump caused her head to bang against the rungs of the cages. Beside her, another captured recruit named Vlaide, a golden colored electricity dragoness moaned fitfully in her state of unconsciousness. Cynder herself had just woke up and had immediately tried to set fire to the tarp only to find her magic sapped by an enchanted chain around her neck. Her legs were chained together and her claws and tail blade were covered with thick canvas wraps. Outside she could blearily hear the scrambled noises of their captors exchanging heated words with another person before the cart began again. She fumed internally. "What had command said their mission was? To find a special dragon able to wield four elements… right." Now at least half of her chapter lay dead in some dirty road lined with shacks while another half remained captive.

Her chapter was been reinforced with some ten more, bringing the total amount of Legionaries on the battlefield today to around twelve hundred- of which at least half were dead. "At least Commander Corryn is still alive." She muttered. She had seen him get struck by a yellow dragoness in glossy white armor reminiscent to the ones usually seen donned by the iron Guard. She had probably once been in the elite order, having skillfully knocked out the Centurion in a flurry of accurate strikes and parries in a style that had rarely been seen after Warfang. The battle made her sick, having to kill another dragon for survival and watching as people she knew become pin cushions in the blink of an eye. She had been brought onto the chapter as a recruit to replace Raina, a water dragoness who had been killed during the siege of Nova Lumina. She was the only fatality in the company but her death couldn't have been more traumatic for Arryn, her mate. Ever since then, the normally fun loving fire dragon had grown cold and stoic. She shivered as she recalled how he brutally cut down four rebels before being swarmed and captured. The transformation from a normal easygoing civilian to a cold blooded killer infuriated and confused her to no end and was in her views one of the greatest tragedies that could ever happen.

Beside her the other dragoness grumbled and twitched. Cynder noticed this and gently shook her. Slowly, her eyes opened, blinking rapidly in the dim light.

"We lost didn't we?" She mumbled. "Yes, I'm afraid so." Cynder replied. "Who are you? I don't remember you in the fourth chapter."

"No, I'm from the second, I'm the new healer to replace Raina after she, you know." "Oh yeah, you're Cynder right? I'm Vlaide, newest inductee legionary for the Fourth Chapter of the Second Third Legionnes.

Cynder smiled. "Cynder, recruit healer of the second chapter, third Legionnes." Vlaide giggled. "I'm glad you're here Cynder, as strange as it sounds, at least I won't be alone as a prisoner."

"Oh no, we're not the only ones, almost half of us were captured. The others, well they uh, served Malefor with all they have and will be rewarded." Vlaide's expression turned stricken as she heard this. "Wait, we lost half our soldiers? In just one night?" Cynder nodded solemnly. "Cynder, you're from the second chapter, what happened to Arryn, my brother?" "Arryn lives, he should be in one of the other carts. Luckily for him I'm pretty sure he only suffered a flesh wound." Relief washed over Vlaide's face. "Good, he's a strong dragon. Another thing, do you know another recruit named Olyver?" He's a white air dragon who was also a recruit." "Olyver, the name sounded familiar…

"Cynder…" Cynder's eyes widened at the sight of the wounded dragon before her. "Am I ok?" Cynder shakily undid the straps to the armour of a brilliantly white scaled dragon. The shiny black armour he wore now stained with blood. The armour had stopped most of the arrows but there were still sever embedded into his lower back. "You seem alright, nothing vital was hit." Cynder sighed in relief and removed his helm, using her cape to wipe some blood leaking from the lips of the surprisingly handsome dragon. "Then why do I feel so weak?" His eyes focused on her momentarily before they rolled back. Why was he so weak? Cynder wondered. Nothing vital was ruptured… unless… She carefully flipped him onto his other side. There were no arrows here. She undid the buckles holding the armour for this side and pulled it away, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted a puny shard of metal, no doubt from some cannon fragment, lodged into the side of his chest. The dragon coughed, splattering blood against ground and groaned, looking at her with one half open eye. "I'm… I'm not okay am I?" He caught her horrified expression. "Please hold me, I feel cold." Cynder flipped him over onto his back and rested his head on her lap, cradling it in her arms. "What's wrong?" He whispered, closing his eyes. "You must have landed on a cannon fragment when you fell, it slid between your armour and has likely ruptured the side of your heart." She knew there was nothing she could do. Removing the shard would kill him instantly. "Val, find Val…" Cynder put her ear to catch her fleeting words. "Find her, tell him I couldn't keep her promise." He smiled and ran a claw against her cheek. "Tell her that Olyver died… that he…" The voice trailed off as his eyes lost focus. Cynder looked on in shock as she let the body go.

The cart stopped with a jolt. They must be at where the resistance keep their prisoners, some underground dungeon or something she assumed. The night outside was quiet, broken only by the shuffling of their captors and suppressed dialogue. Something wasn't right, where had the other prisoners been taken? Just a half hour ago they were in a steady convoy of prisoners being dragged or marched off. Now the moans and groans they made had all but vanished. The tarp was suddenly ripped off, and the light of a lantern blinded her vision, which had grown accustomed to staring at the darkness. The cage door opened with a creek and Cynder felt herself get dragged out, Vlaide not far behind her. The golden dragoness roared with fury at their captors but looked surprised and confused at their surroundings.

"You said we were with the rest of the prisoners." She hissed under her breath.

"We were! Why did we get separated?" They were shoved roughly through a door and into a small flat with another room connected by a door on the far side. "Welcome ladies…" Rayze stepped in front of them and grasped their chains.

"As you know, you are now our prisoners and as such, will behave like prisoners. He attached the chain to a post in the center of the room and locked it with a heavy lock. His two escorts exited. If you do not resist, you might just well survive your stay here, if fact, you might even find it quite… pleasurable." He cackled, circling the two dragonesses and trailing his tail against theirs. Cynder shivered, a sense of growing unease developing. She looked towards Vlaide and could see her own emotions reflect off her eyes. He stopped in front of the two and placed a claw under Vlaide's chin. My, you're definitely a pretty one, I will enjoy you a lot." Vlaide's eye's widened as she caught on to his intentions and thrashed, desperately trying to claw at him with her paw only for the canvas padding to bounce off harmlessly against his side. She opened her mouth to throw at him electricity but instead, only gave a low hiss and a few puny sparks.

Rayze's claws whipped forward and smacked the dragoness hard on the cheek, throwing her against the ground. Cynder watched, horrified as he ran his claws down her neck, leaving three thin trails of blood. "Yes, I will like you a lot…" "Cyn-Cynder, What Happened to Olyver?" Cynder snapped out of her stupor and locked eyes with her. "He died peacefully." She hated lying but the truth would hardly have helped. Vlaide's eyes closed for a moment as she let the fact settle before she opened them again, this time staring hard at Cynder.

"Cynder, please, tell Arryn that I died in battle, please don't tell him what happened here Cynder, at least let me keep by honor."

"What, what are you saying, we're going to get out of here Vlaide, you hear me?"? The dragoness smiled faintly as Rayze approached her again. As he got close she backed away, drawing him closer before abruptly twisting her neck and delivering a powerful head-butt again Rayze's abdomen. The dragon went down howling in pain and Vlaide grabbed the chain and twisted it around his neck. He raised his arms and attempted to impede the fatal maneuver, managing to rake his claws savagely down her neck again, causing her to screech but only pull harder on the chain. The door flew open as two guards rushed through and immediately charged them. Cynder's training kicked in as she struck out with her near immobilized tail, throwing one off balance before pouncing at him- when she was suddenly pulled back by the chain. The dragon snarled at her and struck out with his dagger, the blade whizzing by inches from her face. They both eyed each other when Vlaide screamed out. Cynder turned in shock as she saw The other dragon plunged his dagger deep into her back, causing her to let go of the chains .Rayze shot back up, stumbling and grasping his bloodied neck. He fumbled for his sword and with an enraged howl arched it in a savage blow over the dragoness's head. Cynder's eyes widened as blood splattered onto the walls. The wisps of horror clouded into her mind. Her opponent seized the opportunity to clumsily slash against her back with his blade before kicking her and holding her against the ground. Rayze slowly turned to her and his blood covered face shone again the firelight. "Kill her." He turned and pushed through the door, seeking aid for his wound. The two dragons looked at each other momentarily before shrugging and the other own approached, raising his dagger high above her head.

"_Knock Knock Knock_." The wooden door rasped three times. Making the dragons pause. "Get out of here!" The one over her grunted.

"It's a message from Commander Akyla." This made both dragons stop. The one standing whispered to his comrade. "Keep her quiet." Before he opened the door. "Bloody hell lad, how did ya know where we wer-"He stopped and looked down. A thin sword lay embedded in his heart. "You little fu…" Spyro yanked the sword out and the dragon collapsed, dead. The other dragon jumped up and looked for his sword. Spyro pulled at his sword and cursed when it refused to separate from the body. The other dragon had managed to grab a claymore laying against the wall. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into boy." The dragon grabbed a heavy claymore and rushed at him. Spyro easily sidestepped, letting the dragon embed his weapon into the ground. In the blink of an eye, he held up his arm and the gauntlet's outer case split into two part, revealing a mechanism. A knife sprung out and spun around to face forward, the blade clicking into place. In the blink of an eye, Spyro rolled under the larger dragon, sliding his blade deep through his abdomen. Immediately the dragon fell to the ground.

Spyro rushed over to Cynder, temporarily ignoring the corpse beside her. "Are you alright?" Her head turned to face him but she said nothing. Spyro noticed the blood on her back. "Shit, we need to get you treated. Spyro proclaimed and ripped off a piece of his cape before wrapping the clothe against the wound. Cynder squinted hard at this new dragon. He didn't appeared to be a threat, that fact was made obvious when he killed the attackers and began to dress her wounds. She turned her head only to catch sight of Vlaide's glazed over eyes. She felt like vomiting. Three dragons lay dead in the room and the last one… shit. "There one more." Spyro looked up. "What's that?" The door flew open and a non-too happy looking Rayze stood in the doorway, the lower portion of his neck covered in bandages. His face distorted at the sight of the purple dragon and without hesitation, rammed at him. Spyro backpedaled quickly and cursed as the slipped on the blood of one of the dragons. He hit the wall and was knocked clean through the thin mortar and into the street on the other side. He lay there gasping for breath when Rayze stumbled through the door.

"You just couldn't mind your own business huh?" He kicked away Spyro's gauntlet away and delivered a harsh blow to his stomach when he threw a wild swipe at his face. "Oof!" Spyro felt the wind knocked out of his lungs again. Rayze grabbed the purple dragon around the throat and threw him against the wall. "You little fucker! I'll kill you!" Spyro gasped as his vision grew hazy and he bearily spotted a dagger appear in the dragon's other hand. Suddenly, the blue dragon's grip slackened and he fell limply against the ground. Spyro dropped to the ground, chocking and gasping for air. Cynder stood above him holding the claymore from one of the dragons he had killed earlier. The blade was almost as tall as she was and carved a savage cut through Rayze's back, severing tissue, spine, and nerve. She winced as her own injuries caught up to her and dropped the heavy sword, clutching at her side, which ported a deep stab wound. "Come on, we need to leave." Spyro shakily stood up and helped her stand. Cynder wordlessly accepted the assistance and together they limped towards the door.

"Who is that?" Spyro gestured with his wing towards the dead legionary. Cynder gazed one last gaze at Vlaide's body and looked away. "You don't need to know." Spyro raised an eyebrow but didn't delve any deeper into the question. "Do you know him?" Cynder this time pointed to the dragon dead Wing Officer Spyro had just killed. Spyro nodded. "Who was he?" Spyro glared at the corpse as they stumbled out the door. "Nobody important."

The irony Spyro wondered, that of all the people he could be helping right now it was his sworn enemy. The dragoness next to him seemed to be quite withdrawn and Spyro couldn't blame her. She had probably lost a friend- or many for that matter when he remembered the countless Legionaries falling by arrows. They were almost near Hunter's Forge now. Throughout the night they had evaded patrols. Word had spread the some Legionary had escaped and murdered three Wings, one of them a recent officer and that whoever captured-no _kills_ the fugitive be rewarded five hundred gold coins, a sum that Spyro figured would probably be greater than what a quarter of the city makes per year. The dragoness stopped momentarily as her makeshift bandage fell out of place. Spyro undid the cloth and ripped for her a new piece and tied it on as a replacement, careful to not press too hard onto the wound itself. When he was done he looked up to see the dragoness staring back at him, watching his every movement.

"Why are you helping me?" She asked matter-o-factly, catching Spyro off guard.

"Well so much for a thank you." Spyro snorted. Cynder ignored this comment.

"Well, why did you? You can easily collect that bounty for yourself and nobody would know what happened." Spyro thought about this.

Why exactly had he helped her? "I don't know…" He replied, his mind drawing a blank, noting how the Dragoness narrowed his eyes at him.

"I just… thought it was the right thing to do." He looked up, noticing the suspicion and tinge of surprise in the dragoness's look.

"Nobody would kill three dragons and go through the trouble of harboring their sworn enemy just because it's 'the right thing to do."

Spyro shrugged, I guess I just did, or maybe I did it because you helped me out earlier today, Cynder." He watched her suspicion turn into surprise. "You're…you're the dragon from earlier? The one that Corryn wanted to recruit?" Spyro nodded and showed her the virtually unnoticeable patches of green on the top of his head.

"Put on by you about eighteen hours ago."

Cynder cocked her head. "So you're on our side?"

Spyro shook his head. "I'm not on anybody's side. I just work with whatever I believe in." He watched Cynder debate with herself the validity of his statement. She looked at him, this time with less of the harsh distrust from before.

"I... I still don't entirely trust you."

"Well you're going to have to because I am the only dragon in this city stupid enough to help a Legionary." Cynder bit her lip but nodded.

"Fine, I'll give you the benefit of doubt." She said with a faint hint of relief in her voice.

"Good, Spyro nodded satisfied, now we can't trust one another if we don't know each other's names. What is your full name?" Cynder looked at him hesitantly but replied.

"Cynder… Cynder of Iron Heights." Spyro remembered Iron Heights, an industrial city under the shadow of Mount Boyzitbig. At its peak it was the home to some six hundred thousand dragons and produced forty percent of the metals in the former Dragon Empire. It had been one of the major cities that the Dark Master targeted and subsequently captured after a year-long siege costing the city a quarter of its population. It became the industrial capital of the Dark Armies and also the major training grounds for the recruits of the Legionnes. "

What's your name?" Cynder asked him.

"Spyro… my name is Spyro of Warfang." Cynder smiled for the first time he met her. "Thank you, Spyro, I owe you." Spyro smiled back. "No, you don't Cynder, it was just the right thing to do.


	3. Cynder

Hunter's ears perked up when he noticed the faint opening and shutting of a door. The old cheetah quietly sprung from his bed and reached over, grasping the hilt of his rapier. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and he found the door leading to the hallway. Stepping outside, he could hear creeks on the floor beneath him, originating from the forge.

The footsteps reached the base of the stairs and began to make their way up. There were at least two intruders. He held his rapier at the ready until the footsteps were near the top of the steps before jumping around the corner, aiming the tip against the throat of the first individual.

Spyro stopped abruptly as he found the tip of the rapier stuck under his chin. "Ancestors Spyro! What the hell is wrong with you?" Hunter scowled at his apprentice. "What are you doing here at this time?" He noticed the dragoness behind him. "Who's that with you?"

"Hunter, I need to ask a favor." The seriousness that Spyro spoke with caught the old cheetah by surprise, rarely did the purple dragon ever spoke without his usual sarcasm or humor. "Of course, fire away." He gestured for Cynder to step forward. "This is Cynder. The Wings are looking for her. She is injured and will need special care."

Hunter stared at her, noticing that she bore a silver choker with fourteen inscribed on it. "Al right then young lady, there is a room just beside mine. He opened a door just a few feet away, revealing a cozy room stacked with books and a few paintings. Cynder limped inside while Hunter hurriedly picked up a thick wool blanket and draped it over the dusty bunk bed.

"Here, it's not ideal, I wasn't expecting any visitors." Cynder gave a weak nod and slumped into the bed, wincing as a pang of pain shot through her side where she was stabbed. Hunter exited and returned a short while later carrying anesthetics as well as new bandages. He administered the anesthetics first before unwrapping Spyro's makeshift bandage and replacing it with wraps of clean gauze. Finished, he gave her a curt nod.

"Thank you sir." Cynder voiced her gratitude.

"It is no problem, are you hungry miss?" Cynder blushed when at the mention of food her stomach gave a low growl. The old cheetah chuckled and said:

"I'll send Spyro to fix you some dinner. He hasn't eaten either I presume." Cynder thanked him and Hunter exited the room, his voice emanating through the walls as he gave orders. Cynder placed her head against the wool and looked around at the room she was in. It was not a big room in any way, a few steps would cover it end to end; however, the walls and cabinets were all filled with books, pieces of exotic machinery, and a few paintings here and there. She stared hard at a old painting at the foot of the bed, making out a beaming purple dragon with an arm casually cast over the shoulders of another yellow drake, who shared the expression. She could tell the purple drake was Spyro, and from the size of him she would assume that it was well over five years ago. The yellow drake she did not recognize but could tell that he was most likely the former inhabitant of the room. It would appear that most of the items were untouched for many years as a layer of dust had clearly settled over the room. The door clanged open and Spyro walked in, balancing two plates of assorted food stuff in his paws. He walked on his haunches, a position unusual for a dragon and his goofy stumbling incited a slight giggle from her.

"Here, I got some chow." Spyro handed a plate to her and kept the other for himself. Her mouth watered at the scent of dried beef and assorted vegetables served with rice. It wasn't as good as the meals that the garrison served but for now it tasted delicious.

As she began to eat, she noted Spyro setting his plate onto the floor, looking around the room almost nostalgically.

"You used to live here huh." She asked, causing him to look at her. "You can tell?" He questioned. "Yeah, I saw the old paintings and stuff." Spyro nodded, gazing at the paintings. "Who is that?" She inquired further, gesturing towards the yellow dragon sitting next to him in most of the pictures. Spyro's gaze clouded over a bit and for a moment Cynder could have sworn she saw his irises glisten before he blinked and looked away. "He was… he was a good friend of mine."

Spyro backpedaled when a yellow drake his age slunk out of a hiding place behind a stack of unused boxes in the corner. "What the, who are you, how did you get in here?" Spyro bared his teeth at the unexpected appearance. The dragon winced and looked away. "My name is Sparx, an orphan living here in the city. I don't really remember how I got here. Only that I needed shelter yesterday and by chance I stumbled into the old clock tower. Spyro stared at him hard, noting his wiry frame and obvious hungery. He sighed and tossed half his loaf of bread to Sparx, who gobbled it up quickly, surprising Spyro with the speed in which a weeks' worth of bread was guzzled down in a matter of seconds. After eating, they had agreed that they could partner to survive, looting and shoplifting the stalls of the market before splitting whatever they could find between them. This method not only meant that they had a high probability of a successful find, but also meant that if one of them fails, then they both won't go hungry for a day.

This method, as it turns out, worked wonders in the hassle and mess that was the market district of Nova Lumina. As new merchants arrived running from the Dark Master, there were frequent arguments and tussles in the market as merchants competed or argued on the validity of a shop. In the chaos, Spyro- who was at the south end- and Sparx- who was at the north- easily snuck out pieces of meat, fruits, vegetables, and the occasional treat from distracted shop owners. By the end of the month, their enclave in the clock tower had turned from a barren room to a collection of assorted books and scrolls. The dup continued to carry out these daily raids and expanded from the marketplace to the fairground and to even the industrial workshops.

Then one day, something different happened. Spyro and Sparx were together browsing the manufacturing district, where instead of shops lined with trinkets, jewelry, and food, heavy furnaces and machines churned out swords, spears, and shields. Some of the swords were made with such precision that each one took almost half a year to manufacture, and is only sold to the most elite of the squadrons under the command of the city. To the two dragons however, the weaponry meant nothing; instead, they had their attention focused on a plump earth dragon strolling in front of them. To most, he would pass as any noble who went down too hard on the sweet rolls but to the dragons of Nova Lumina, he was Cryux, head of Crux Steel, the largest steel manufacturer in the empire. His company had been in Iron Heights but after it fell, he relocated to Warfang, before finally to Starsrise, the furthest east city of the former Dragon Empire and the impromptu capital after Warfang fell. The city is located almost four hundred kilometers to the east, on top of a peak climbing above the clouds before abruptly ending in a massive cliff almost a mile above the Shimmering Sea. It is said that on a clear, cloudless day, one could see the silhouette of the mysterious white isles far out over the ocean. Whether or not these rumors were true Spyro did not know, but what he did know was that Cryux came once every Season of Fire to check on his factories, and wherever the richest man a live went, so did money, in fact, he had so much of it that he no longer used gold, instead transcending to platinum, a metal said to be worth five times more than gold is worth. And there were five full bags of it dangling from thick leather pouches from the dragon's waists. They made a noticeable bulge out of the full body cape that Cryux wore…

"And so does his belly." Spyro mused, seeing how every step seemed to send a ripple through the rolls of fat bulging from under his scales. He focused his attention back to the platinum. Cutting the bag loose would be easy enough, getting past five armed and armored guards and escaping the detection of an entire crowd of dragons was not however-which was why he and Sparx had gone through a month of planning for this heist. Right on que a flash of yellow darted in between the legs of a large fire dragon, swiftly kicking out, bringing down the large dragon with a grunt. He roared in fury and swung a paw at the nearest bystander, an even larger earth dragon. The earth dragon received a face full of fist and fell back a few feet, knocking over multiple other dragons. Spyro watched as the Earth dragon roared in fury and swung back, inevitably causing massive collateral damage and pretty soon over a dozen dragons were either trading blows or lay knocked out in front of the steel baron. The half dozen guards formed a semi-circle in front of him and the crowd fixated their eyes on the melee, leaving the back open for attack.

Spyro slunk in quietly and with a quick swipe with his razor sharp claws- specially sharpened for this occasion- he swiped off a bag from the large dragon and tucked it quickly under his own cape before slinking off. He snickered and looked back, noticing how Cryux was now quizzically feeling around his waist, having noticed the change in weight. His face distorted and he whipped around to whisper urgently into the ear of one of the guards. Spyro watched amused at the scene as the guard looked around frantically but didn't move, deeming lost money not enough of an incentive to risk his employer getting injured by the frenzied brawl which had spread around them. His eyes fell on him and he stared, confused for a moment. Spyro met eyes with him and blanched, realizing the silver rope that he had cut now hung loosely under his cape. The guard shouted something inaudible above the noise and tried to shove past two dragons, only to have his helmet knocked off his head. Annoyed, he pulled an object out of a satchel around his waist. Spyro froze as he made out the outline of a flint-lock pistol but reassured himself that he was already much too far for the inaccurate device to hit. The guard seemed to have figured this out too and raised the gun into the air, away from any dragons. The resounding "BOOM!" imminently threw the crowd into a flurry, this time in an effort to out as much distance between themselves and the gun as possible.

Spyro ducked from the sound and turned tail to run- only to be blindsided across the face by a furred arm. He fell to the ground, gasping and caught sight of a middle aged cheetah with golden fur frowning down at him. The guard shoved his way past the frenzied civilians and stopped by him. "Thank you sir, you've saved us a great deal of trouble." The cheetah just nodded and handed the bag of platinum to the guard, who gave a brief nod of gratitude and took the bag as well as reaching down to grab Spyro. To his surprise. The cheetah stopped him. "No, I have a solution for these two." He motioned to Spyro and Sparx- who stood observing from a rooftop. The guard nodded and turned, walking briskly back to Cryux's side and returned the bag. The fat dragon gave a "humph" of impatience and strolled away, annoyed. The Cheetah let go of Spyro, who prepared to run just in case but to his relief the cheetah just crossed his arms and glared crossly at him.

"You've got some tough meat to try to steal from the wealthiest nobleman in the world." Spyro rubbed his neck and nodded. "Normally I wouldn't care too much but we cant risk loosing his support and robbing him would not help any of us any bit, though I do complement your ingenuity, I half expected the two of you to have been towed away by the guards twenty minutes ago." Spyro looked at him, cocking his head at the bemused expression that had crept across his features. "Now tell me young dragon, what is your name?" Spyro hesitated momentarily but decided to humor the cheetah; after all, he had just prevented them from being thrown in some prison… "Spyro, of Warfang." The cheetah looked at him strangely.

"Spyro of Warfang? I knew a dragon with that name once I am Hunter of Avalar." Spyro recognized him, he head caught glimpses of him selling wares from a nearby forge. "Tell me Spyro, what was your father's name?" "Captain Flash, of the Iron Guard." Hunter's eyes widened. "Flash? The electric dragon? You're his son?" Spyro nodded. "You know him?" "Ah yes lad, he saved my life three years ago, during the Battle of Avalar. Spyro remembered that day.

The Dark Armies had marched to an encampment just one hundred miles to the west of Warfang, on the outskirts of the valley of Avalar. There, the only force to hold them off was a large village of cheetahs; exceptional warriors, his father had claimed. Flash was put in charge of a twenty dragon scouting squadron to oversee the evacuation of the village as well as tally the force that would march on Warfang. In the cover of night, they had smuggled out of the village a good half of the population, about two thousand cheetahs. The remaining ones however followed their leader, a headstrong but honourable cheetah by the name of Prowlus. Spyro had been overjoyed when his father came home, battered but still alive. The other two thousand were the trained warriors, who insisted on covering the rear. What they did not know was that the leader of the army, a massive ape by the name of Gaul, had already predicted that the villagers would flee and had thus placed an elite battalion of magic enhanced apes in advance to block the route to Warfang, remaining just a mile outside the village. When they had seen the approaching dragons they waited. And Waited. And Waited. Until the first torches held by the cheetah elderly, children, and mothers trudged down the path. One thousand apes wielding one thousand crossbows shot a thousand bolts almost simultaneously before grabbing their scimitars and charging, letting out bloodcurdling yowls and howls.

Three hundred cheetahs died in the first instance and masses more were slaughtered before the warriors could arrive and by then they were again attacked- this time from behind- by another battalion of the fearsome ape elite. Trapped between two semicircles. The cheetahs fell back into hastily fashioned phalanxes, stretched thin to protect the civilians within. Twice the apes charged, and twice the lines held, which each charge accumulating to at least five hundred dead on both sides. The small group of Iron Guard fought with their allies but even the most elite of them could not hold off the sheer number of apes. "Form with me!" The electric dragon unleashed a devastating wave of electricity, frying the nearest warriors, waiting for the cheetahs to form into a crude edge lead by his Iron Guards. He knew that in doing this, their chances of breaking out increased but at the loss of the ones bringing up the rear, who would be surly overrun as soon as the powerful front broke through.

When the front broke the ape lines, the sides and back immediately collapsed but now that they weren't trapped, the cheetahs fled into the brush, relying on their superior mobility to evade the heavily armored apes. A blue cheetah crossed blades with an ape almost twice height, sporting dual scimitars. "Puny cheetahs!" the ape laughed, making him cringe at the smell of rotting teeth. Hunter ducked under the second scimitar and thrust with his short sword, only to be thrown off balance by a hard punch. The ape stood over him and swung, only to succeed in a deep but not life threatening slash across the arm when the cheetah rolled out of the way. The ape roared in rage and raised his sword again, this time to be thrown off by a dragon tackling him. Both fighters were thrown a dozen meters before recovering. The dragon stood just to the giant ape's shoulder but again charged at him, this time using his horns to gouge a deep set of wounds on the ape's stomach. It screamed and grabbed the horns, throwing the dragon away before grasping his scimitars again. The dragon placed its paws against the ground and unleashed a barrage of ice, only hiss in dismay when they were deflected uselessly by an elemental shield enchanted into the ape's armor. The ape roared furiously and charged, forcing the dragon to duck out of the way before turning swiftly and hurling a scimitar at it. The dragon howled in pain as the sword sliced cleanly through his arm. The ape again charged and this time, made contact- only to have the experienced dragon roll with the momentum, landing on top of the imbalanced ape. It cursed as the dragon bit furiously at his throat before kicking with his hind legs, sending him into a tree. The incapacitated dragon gasped for air as the ape grabbed him by the neck, grunting in annoyance when a arrow lodged into his shoulder. He turned to see Hunter with a bow drawn. The cheetah hurriedly launched another arrow, attempting to distract the ape but this time it just clanged uselessly against the thick armour. The ape howled and squeezed, making the dragon choke and scratch feebly against his padded arms. Hunter drew another arrow. If only he could land a shot into the crack between the ape's helmet and back plate… a sickening crack made him freeze as the ape turned back towards him, still holding the dragon, except he was no longer struggling. Hunter stared into the now lifeless eyes of the guard, whose neck was bent in a unnatural angle and blood began to trickle out of his throat. The ape threw the corpse to the side and approached the frozen cheetah. Hunter shook himself back to attention and stared at the ape's soulless eyes. His eyes! Hunter waited for the perfect shot, then suddenly raised his bow and let an arrow loose. Before the ape could react, the iron lodged itself deep within his left eye. The ape howled with fury and swung blindly at the cheetah, who turned to run, only to be grabbed by the tail and thrown into a tree. The ape roared and raised his scimitar, only to be tackled again by another dragon. This time, the dragon ripped away its chest plate before it could react and sent a powerful current of electricity into the foul creature. The ape screeched and fell limp, with part of its chest burnt to a crisp. The dragon stepped off and helped the cheetah up before kneeling by his dead comrade. The dragon sighed and grabbed the dead dragon's helmet, which Hunter saw had his name engraved on the front before turning back to the cheetah.

"My name is Captain Flash of the Iron Guard." "Hunter, of Avalar." The dragon nodded. "Get on, we need to leave this place."

Spyro sat, wide eyed as the cheetah finished his story. He never knew what had happened that day. "Wow... all that was… true?" He stared at the cheetah, who nodded. "Ay lad, your father was a good man, he came back looking for survivors more than once, fighting off the apes with such skill. I owe my life to him and never got to pay him back before he died." Spyro shook his head.

"You don't owe him anything, he was doing his job."

"No, more than his job, and I never got the chance to pay him back… until now." Spyro looked up quizzically. The cheetah was now grinning. "No I may not be able to help him, but I can help his son. Spyro, how would you like to work for me? I can provide you a home and money, you won't have to steal or live in the streets. Spyro blinked at the offer and looked at Sparx, who was sitting by him and had the same expression. "I.. I accept- but only if Sparx can stay as well." Hunter laughed and patted him on the back. "You've got a deal."

Spyro looked up from his story when a gentle knock resounded from behind the door. Cynder, who had been listening intently on the story gave huff of annoyance but also rose, tensing just in case the Wings decided to check the forge again. However, instead of bristling men at arms, Hunter walked in, shortly followed by a petite mole who was carrying a suitcase almost half his height.

"Dr. Ingar" Spyro dipped his head respectfully. He knew the mole well, Ingar was one of the best doctor and surgeon in the city, having treated both the guards along the walls and the Legionaries who occupied the city. What made Spyro like the mole was that he showed no bias towards any sides, valuing all sentient life on the same level. Like Spyro, he had been targeted by the Wings but never taken due to his skill in the trade.

"Young Spyro, you've grown so much since the last time I've seen you, how have you been?" The old mole's nose stretched into a warm smile. "Very well, you? I heard that you had been hired to treat a patient at the embassy all the way in the inner city, how are you holding up?"

The mole chuckled. "No worries young dragon, this old bag of bones is gonna be fine for at least another ten years. Now let's see who I will be treating today." Spyro let him approach Cynder, who shot him a questioning glance. Spyro smiled at her reassuringly, silently telling her to trust the doctor.

"You look very nice, keep that healthy habit of yours going little lady." The mole spoke as he examined the wound, neglecting the fact that Cynder stood at least a neck and head taller than him. He opened his suitcase and pulled out a vial of liquid and a few red crystal shards. Spyro's eyes widened. "Crystals, but how? I thought the Dark Master had his armies destroy all of them years ago?" "Oh goodness no, why would he give up such a useful thing for his armies? No, that's just what the guardians tell us to keep people from risking their necks to gather mines all belong to the Dark Master after all." Spyro watched as he opened the vial and poured some liquid into a handkerchief.

"Now there darlen a bit of this will disinfect the wound but since its deep, it's going to hurt quite a bit. Cynder tensed but nodded and the mole slowly rubbed the dripping handkerchief over the wound. Cynder cringed and bit back a howl as a burning sensation pierced through her body. Dr. Ingar placed a rubber mouthpiece in front of her. "Here, bite on this, the pain should be over soon." Cynder bit down hard and the pain gradually died down, allowing her to relax and notice how sweaty she had become. "Good job darlen, that was pretty impressive. Even young Spyro here nearly woke the entire block when I had to give him some of that." Spyro looked away embarrassed as he recalled the occasion. "I was only thirteen back then."

"I don't see how that justifies your point." Dr. Ingar laughed under his breath and held up the crystals.

"Since I work with the Legionnes so much, I get these a lot." He placed a shard against Cynder's wound and immediately the crystal glowed, seeping magic into her body. Cynder closed her eyes at the warm feeling and when she opened them again the crystal was a clear colour, signaling that it was fully drained.

"Yeah, Commander Corryn told us how dragons and crystals are bonded by magic although one does not need it to survive, it works wonders in the battlefield so the Dark Master focused on the crystal mines first." Spyro nodded and turned back to Dr. Ingar when three loud knocks came from downstairs. He raised an eyebrow at Dr. Ingar. "Did you have any assistants?" The mole shook his head.

"No, just me." Hunter stepped out of the room and went downstairs. Spyro could hear the muffled sound of the door open and Hunter greet the new comer. "Oh, hello there Akyla." "Hey Hunter, I must speak to Spyro." Spyro heard him hesitate. "He… uh is very busy right now." "Oh nonsense, not when he hears this!" The loud creaks of paws against the wooden stairs snapped him out of his stupor and he looked desperately at Cynder, who scrambled up, searching for a place to hide. The door flew open. "Spyro! Guess what?" The yellow dragoness burst through the doorway and froze. For a moment the four occupants in the room stared at each other before Spyro broke the silence. "uhhhhh… hi?"

"So… Rayze is dead?" The yellow dragon sat on a cushion across from Spyro while Cynder and Hunter looked on. Dr. Ingar had taken his leave and went home- or wherever he was needed.

"Yes." Spyro replied. "Along with his two leftenants?" Spyro nodded again. Akyla sighed and scratched her muzzle before turning to look at Cynder. "Normally I would have had the both of you publically hanged for killing our soldiers and harboring a sworn enemy of the empire." Spyro winced and could see that Cynder was tensed, ready for a fight. However, Akyla just rested her head against her paw and said. "But… I do owe you one for that armor, it saved my life more than once today and frankly, Rayze and his cronies were a pain in the ass." She chuckled.

"Their heads aren't worth much in my eyes but that's not what the rest of the Wings would think. Tell ya what, this actually fits in quite well with my plan." Spyro cocked his head.

"Plan?" Akyla nodded giddily. "Yes, as you know, we have begun to launch a overthrowing of the Dark Master's forces in both this city and port Silversail up to the north east; however, there is a large presence of legionaries still in the city controlling the half with the embassy and industries. Now, a full on assault would be costly for both sides so our leaders and the Commanders have agreed upon a deal. As you know, we have captured over four hundred prisoners in the last battle including two Centurions: Commanders Corryn and Reyden. They are incredibly valuable so in exchange for a release of prisoners, the Legionnes are willing to pull out of the city." "But won't they just turn around and besiege us again?" Spyro asked. "No, that's the thing, they can't. With the Dark Legionnes spread across the entire realms and invading other lands the nearest force that can possess any threat is the garrison at Warfang, some five hundred miles west. When the Legionnes leaves the walls, any reinforcements will need at least three weeks to get here and set up camp and by then we will have both Nova's forces and Starsrise's forces with us. She turned to Cynder. You will be part of the prisoner contingent released." Cynder nodded her head, relieved that she would be part of the Legionnes again soon.

"When will this occur?" She asked.

"At the main gates, tomorrow at dawn." With this Akyla turned to leave but before she did she called to Spyro. "You know how to fight well, my offer is still open." She stepped out and a moment later the downstairs door opened and shut. Hunter sighed and turned to the two dragons.

"Get some sleep, it's almost dawn and tomorrow's going to be a busy day."


	4. A Whimsical World

It wasn't until noon that Spyro woke up. He looked around and realized that instead of being at his own house on his own bed he was in Hunter's home above the forge. Under him he could hear the clanging of a hammer against hot metal and realized that all of the broken armors and weapons from the battle would need fixing.

He searched in his old closet and looked for a clean cape to no avail. Whatever he had left here three years ago were already covered in dust. He walked across the room, stopping before an oak chest. It had belonged to Sparx a long time ago and sat, as dusty as everything else was. Spyro opened it and peaked inside, smiling at the sight of two layers of folded wool apparel. Sparx was always the neater person and he picked up a royal purple colored one, protected from the dust by the chest and walked out.

"Where is Cynder?" The black dragoness was nowhere in sight. He stopped before the washroom and placed the cape next to the door. From somewhere he could hear soft humming.

_"I will send out a light burning for you alone…_" His mind automatically filled in the words as he remembered the song. His mother had sang it to him many times as a child. He placed a paw against the door and opened it with a creak." Cynder stopped mid verse as she and the purple dragon met eyes and froze. Spyro cursed and threw the door closed again, scrambling out of the washroom, out of sight of the bathing dragoness. Cynder blushed furiously but still laughed to herself at his comedic reaction.

"So what gives Spyro?" Cynder was still smirking at the purple dragon who was sitting on the other side of the table, still blushing.

"I mean, we are dragons after all, it's not like we wear clothes either way." Spyro shifted again but looked up. "I don't know…maybe because I've spent the past few years living with a cheetah?" Cynder rolled her eyes.

"We're not cheetahs silly." Spyro snorted but didn't say anything. Cynder smiled inwardly. When she had first met the dragon in front of her she had always viewed him as a serious, capable fighter but strangely, that facade had mostly been replaced with a whimsical- albeit slightly quiet nature. Still, she could see that he knew full well when he had to put on the mask. She shrugged and eyed the lamb chops on her plate.

The cheetah Hunter was very hospitable, providing meals and whatever else she needed at the moment. She was however, still a prisoner of sorts. As Spyro had explained, the wings had spies everywhere and the appearance of a new dragoness bearing the marks of a legionary was suspicious and no doubt would land her in a prison cell if she was spotted. Akyla was lenient enough to grant her the benefit of doubt and allowed her to stay with Hunter until the next morning, when she would be escorted just outside the city walls where the exchange was to take place but today, she was going to have to stay indoors and out of sight.

She retreated back to her room when the first customers arrived at the forge and dropped off a cracked piece of armor and a dented sword, causing the cheetah and purple dragon to snap into work mode to stave off the heavy workload that would no doubt mark today. She sat on the bed and absent mindedly picked up at the top book of a stack that was provided to her by Spyro. She looked at the cover.

_Tale of Shadow and Light. _

The book was an old fairy tale passed down through many centuries and the story was quite well known to all dragons. Cynder however, never did find the time to read this certain piece- instead she focused on training, practicing her healing, and learning. She shrugged and flipped to the first page. "Might as well start now."

_Thousands of years ago, there was no empire, only the city states that once dominated the Dragon Lands. The great kings struggled for power- waging endless wars to gain each other's territories. Great battles of steal and magic were waged for thousands of years, destroying the land and wiping entire villages off the face of the planet. Great cities rose and fell and new cities were constructed in their ruins. The ancestors watched as dynasties rose and fell, and ached to help their creations but they could not find a dragon they deemed worthy to be able to carry their banners into battle and rally the dragons under their name. After waiting another five generations with no avail, the ancestors finally decided that one of their own would have to enter the world of the living, though by doing so they become another mortal being, bound to live and die just as the rest of the world. So who could make this sacrifice? Certainly not the ancestor of light, for he was the most powerful and the leader. Neither the ancestor of fire nor earth, nor water nor ice, could be afforded. Then there was the ancestor of death, Damocrius, disciple of the ancestor of darkness, the counter of light._

_ He had watched for centuries dragons be born to the world and had been the one who finally laid their old corpses to rest. Almost driven to the brink of madness, he decided that he too would suffer like his people. So he came into the earth as a Guardian, a purple dragon who rallied the good behind his cause and smite all those who opposed him. Under him the dragon city states united and formed the empire with him at its helm and under his guidance, the army took over the entire continent. However, with a mortal body came the mortal temptations._

_ As Damocrius soon realized, he craved power. The Empire, tired after over a century of expansion had enough though and pulled back the army, satisfied with what lands they already controlled. With the military no longer under his control, Damocrius found that the power and control that he had been accustomed to no longer belonged to him. He returned to Warfang and took up his throne as the first Emperor, usurping the power of the four guardians he had put in power while he commanded his soldiers. The ancestors watched as he became a puppet to his desire for war and decided that it was time to take him back. They came to him while he slept and pulled his spirit from his body and thus Damocrius again became the ancestor of death, ashamed by his wrongdoings. In the mortal realm however, his body did not come with him and like anything with life, it died too when his spirit left. However, the darkness that Damocrius left behind refused to be destroyed. It fled the body and sought host within the body of an egg laden dragoness, manifesting itself and then rebirthed into the world as a demon. A purple dragon filled with rage and despise. He sought the armies of darkness and waged war against the empire, seeking to claim the throne. In the heat of battle he faced against the four first guardians and killed them all, albeit not before sustaining grievous wounds. In his near death state, he rose to the ancestors and the ancestor of light gave him power to resist the darkness. When he awoke, the purple dragon felt for the first time sorrow and horror at the carnage caused in his wake and instead fought the darkness and turned his armies against each other. He refuse allow the darkness to control him and with his power chose to destroy himself, ending the darkness inside. In the centuries following the dark and light forces flowed through nature, searching for a worthy host. Meanwhile, the enemies of the Empire prospered as the empire itself fought to recuperate, As the dragon empire again entered war- this time for its own survival the power finally found a worthy host, Again a purple dragon was born into the world but this time not a demon, but as a great hero who would lead the empire out of conflict and restore it back to its former Darkness however lied in wait, waiting for another dragon of weak mind to possess. And wait it did..._

Cynder snapped herself awake and realized that she had fallen asleep reading the book, her muzzle still resting between a few pages. "Hey Cynder, got some food." Cynder nearly jumped out of her skin as Spyro called from the doorway. She had not noticed him enter.

Spyro came over and handed her a platter with a large lamb chop and assorted vegetables on the sides along with a hot piece of bread on the side. She nodded gratefully to Spyro who settled down on the floor to eat his own share. "Whose books were these?" Cynder asked, reading as she ate. Spyro looked up, "Those were Sparx's he loved to read." Cynder nodded. "You know, you never did tell me what happened to Sparx." Spyro stopped eating and looked at her, debating on how he should word the last part of his story before shrugging.

"After about a year or so of working and staying at Hunter's forge, Sparx and I decided to get our own home. It's by the refugee district, or what remains of it anyways. It wasn't big or anything but it suited our needs. Back then, the refugee district was meant to be a new community of residences so we thought we could get a lot for cheap- which we did. However, the Legionnes arrived at the city while we were still moving in. We were so busy working at the forge that we had barley any time to pack and move, or reinforce our house for that matter. Then the Legionnes brought in trebuchets and catapults and began to pelt the city and walls with fire stones and rocks. We didn't have time to reinforce the house yet when it was struck by a catapult shot." Cynder winced. She knew full well the destructive capability of the Legion. "Was everyone ok?" She inquired. Spyro paused, as if reliving the events again in his head before replying. "I was fine, the shot missed my room." "And Sparx?" Spyro shook his head. "Didn't even see it coming. He was dead before he even knew what happened." Cynder blanked, unsure at what to say so instead she just looked away at her food.

"I'm sorry." Spyro raised his eyebrows. "For what?" "Sparx?" "Don't be, you had nothing to do with it." Cynder pawed the ground.

"I know, it's just that… well… before I came to Nova Lumina I had always been taught that the empire was just criminals, blood lusting warmongers whom the dark master is destined to vanquish.

She chuckled. It's funny really, the divide isn't as great as I thought it was. Trust me, I've met some horrible dragons here but after over a year of being bombarded, losing friends, family, I guess there just gets to a point when it doesn't matter anymore." Spyro sighed and stopped.

"I was taught more or less the same about the Dark Master and his Legionnes. The dragons here all have; that the Legionnes were murders and cutthroats, controlled as puppets by the Dark Master's influence. This is all just lies, in all honesty, it is the Wings of Liberation who hurt us more than the Legionnes ever will. After the city was taken over, they have been enslaving and impressing citizens from across the city. Now that they have regained control, I fear the worst for the future." "Yeah, I guess life isn't going to get any bit easier for both of us." Cynder smiled at him.

"No, what a whimsical world."

They both chuckled continuously before gradually escalating to full laughter at the trivial prospect. The sound attracted Hunter a few minutes later, who looked into the room to witness both dragons trying to suppress giggles and snide remarks. The cheetah gave them a blank look before wordlessly returning to the foundry.

When Akyla returned a few hours later to pick Cynder up, Spyro almost felt sad to see her go. She had been one of the first dragons he had been able to successfully converse with about his personal thought and ideas but he knew that she was still a legionary and still fought for the Dark Master.

Spyro watched as some four hundred legionaries prisoners were marched under the careful watch of liberation soldiers towards the front gates. They were open and on the two sides stood at attention, facing each other. At one side were the Lightnings and the other were the Talons, an elite group from the Legionaries themselves. Normally they wouldn't get involved in ordeals such as this but a few of theirs had been captured in the battle and it was a story that they never, ever left any of their own behind. Also, the chance to stare down their counterparts; the Lightnings, was too great of an incentive to refuse. Thus, the two sides faced each other, ten meters apart, and black and white armors glistening in the sun. He watched from the air as the legionaries passed the wall, a flash of black scales caught his eye and he craned his head to see Cynder look back at him. She flashed him a grin before disappearing under the wall.

Cynder looked at the faces around her. Surprisingly, her chapter had suffered little casualties, losing only Olivyer and three others to the arrows but none to battle itself. Her face fell however when she caught sight of Arryn. The dragon looked horrible, his face dirty and blank, and his eyes bruised and blackened. He had gotten into more than one fight since his capture. His gloomy face brightened slightly when he caught sight of Cynder and he shoved through the crowd towards her direction. She swallowed and waited until he stopped in front of her face, the older dragon peering down at her expectantly and happily. Cynder's stomach churned. The exchange lasted less than a second, a simple question followed by a simple answer and the gray dragon froze, with the crowd shuffling past as if time had stopped in just that one small area.

And then he disappeared.

Cynder didn't know if he had blended into the crowd or had been devoured by it but either way she was now alone. Cynder bit her lip but turned with the crowd, deciding to give the gray dragon some time to himself. The dragons were marched through the ranks of the Lightnings and past Akyla, who watched them emotionlessly before passing through the ranks of the Talons and towards an awaiting convoy of steam powered wagons and medical trolleys.

Cynder passed through her own ranks and breathed a sigh of relief. She had survived. She looked back in time to watch Spyro land on top of the wall and raise a wing at her in farewell, a gesture that she returned before being ushered by a healer into the back of a steam wagon. She watched as the rest of the legionaries were done the same.

She spotted Arryn again, on the side of the column, approaching the Lightnings. Strangely, he looked calm and determined- more so than she would have expected as he passed Akyla… and abruptly snatched her sword out of its holster. She turned in surprise and Arryn powerfully thrusted the sword upwards, passing between the overlapping scales of her armor, throwing her back a few feet before she collapsed on the ground.

Both sides froze for a moment, the looks of shock mirrored on faces from both legionary and liberator.

Then chaos erupted.

A Talon grunted as his armor was pierced by a spear thrown from one of the Lightnings, who himself soon was porcupined by the javelins of a half dozen talons who jumped into action. The remaining ones frantically threw up their shields and formed a sloppy but working phalanx and retreated back into the city, the huge iron gates slamming shut after them while the talons did the same and the convoy rushed to get out of range of the cannons. Cynder watched in horror as a dozen more dragons on both sides were cut down by spears and javelins before the healer from before hopped inside the wagon as it picked up speed and shut the door. She could see a gray body lying in front of the Lightnings.

Arryn had naught a second to react before he himself was pierced with multiple swords. The rest of the dragons took to the air quickly and followed closely, wary of any return fire. Fortunately, there was none as when the unprepared gunners finally loaded their first shots, the convoy was already far away and getting smaller in the distance.

Spyro rushed to Akyla's side, landing clumsily beside her and removed her helmet, only to be met with cold, unmoving eyes. He stared in disbelief as the dragon whom he had deemed one of his closest friends for the past five years paint the earth a shiny crimson. He turned blearily and stumbled away as fast as he could from the site.

_Two Years Later_

"Heave!" A heavily armored dragon thrust his sword at the great gates of Warfang. The battering ram lurched forward and smashed against the stone with a sharp crack. On the walls, dragons of both sides were landing and smashing into each other while above the city fierce air to air combat with elements broke out as dragons upon dragons on both sides plummeted to the ground. The walls were little use against the dragons but while the liberationists had their entire dragon forces take to the air, the other beasts could not afford this luxury and were thus resorted to smashing in the gates by brute force.

"Commander Pixius! Send reinforcements to the east wall! We cannot afford to be pushed back." A Fire dragon wearing polished white armor nodded and flew off, leaving Commander Gydaeon to himself. The dragon watched tersely through a set of binoculars at the battle occurring before him. Finally, after two whole years of combat, Nova Lumina, Starsrise, and now Warfang were close to being back in the hands of the empire. The Legionaries on the wall were thinning out against the waves upon waves of new troops arriving from the reformed empire's garrisons and in the air, banners flying the pitch black moon of the Dark Master's forces were slowly being replaced by banner men flying flags of green, red, yellow, and blue, the four elements of the guardians who were again in power. He smiled at the progress, internally gleaming as he recalled how in the short span of two years, his own troops had taken back almost a third of all lands lost to them. The small rebellion had against all odds turned the tide of the entire war. A shadow appeared behind him, making him stop. "Sir, Lightning Squadron has finished their briefing. "Yes, good, tell them that they will move out as soon as the sun goes down and we have a foothold on the city." The dragon nodded and wordlessly left, his paws barely making a sound as he pushed through the tent flaps.

The clouds glowed a luminous orange when the battle finally drew to a close. Both sides retreated to their front lines as the night set in, neither willing to risk the danger of accidently attacking their own troops in the dark. This of course, was what a score of dragons perched on the walls were waiting for.

As soon as the sun dipped below the wall, they took flight, silently gliding into the city below still under the control of the Dark Master. They took cover behind the ruins of a multi-story building which no doubt once held a family of nobles but now served to break their forms from any prying eyes. Far in front of them, the legionaries had constructed hasty defenses of barricades and torches, lighting up the silhouettes of multiple guards all watching in case of a attack at night.

Patrols of five soldiers frequently passed in front of the defenses and were once in a while swapped out with a new shift when they passed a heavily guarded entrance. Repeating ballista's and volley guns poked above the sea of tents within, easily able to bring down scores of attackers foolish enough to present themselves a flying target. The lightning commander gave a brief wave of his paw and two subordinates silently dashed behind another building even closer to the enemy camp. They peaked their heads out before abruptly ducking back into the shadows as a heavily armed patrol in the street in front of them. As soon as the dragons marched off, the rest of the infiltrators dashed two by two to the next set of ruins. With this slow, methodical leapfrogging technique they managed to position themselves adjacent to the side of the camp, behind another building that had been demolished by a catapult. A patrol of five passed by but this time five Lightnings leaped out of the shadows, all armed with daggers and swiftly sunk their blades between the armor of their respected targets. Five bodies went limp and were dragged into the rubble and five lightning now in legionary armor emerged and resumed the original course of the patrol.

The rest of the dragons snuck to the back entrance of the camp, guarded by no less than thirty legionaries . The Lightnings remained motionless and silent in the shadows. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and then thirty before without warning the guards in the watchtowers all fell over, crossbow bolts lodged within their necks. One of the bolts clanged against the armor of one of the guards as he fell and two other guards on the ground looked up, their bored faces turning into shock at the sight of the motionless limbs of their comrades poking out of the sides of the towers. They opened their mouths to shout an alarm when a purple blur darted in front of both of them and swiftly silenced them with a pair of daggers. "Good Work Spyro" a fire dragon much older than him whispered as he returned back to formation. "Thank you captain Cyfer. The captain nodded and gestured with his paw to the three other soldiers. Immediately they dropped their crossbows and drew the short swords of the legionaries they had taken out earlier. Spyro himself also held in his paw a ceramic ball the size of a cantaloupe attacked to a hook and wire. Captain Cyfer nodded and slunk in the open, making his way towards another group of Legionaries with one of his men. The other dragons dispersed, each selecting their own set of targets.

Commander Reyden poured over the map feverishly. The garrison of legionaries at Warfang had been decimated after the first day of battle. With only eighty percent of the original force still combat capable, a direct counter attack would not be possible. His eyes squinted over the map, mulling at the positions of his enemies. No doubt they would use their superior numbers in a full on assault. With control over the walls, the imperials would be able to launch an attack from any or all sides. "And with extra men losing a few to friendly fire would pose no problem." He mused. That's it, a night attack, when the legionaries would be at their weakest. That was when they would attack. "Well, then I must greet them." The old dragon called in one of his subordinates who quickly ran off toward the barracks.

As the last legionary wordlessly fell captain Cyfer wordlessly gathered his men. With the baristas out of commission, an airborne attack would most likely be met with great success. He looked over at the dragons and nodded in satisfaction when he counted all twenty before reaching into a pouch under his cloak and pulling out a tube with an attacked metal ring. He pointed it into the air and pulled. A bright red flair shot out into the sky, soon mirrored by an identical one from atop the wall. The two pinpricks of light ascended into the heavens before being swallowed up in the outlines of thousands of dragons, many ferrying ground bound races on their backs, as they plunged from hidden positions atop the wall and into the fortifications below. The deadly rain of volley gun and ballista fire was absent, with the crews manning them dead or unconscious. The shadow fell with one fell swoop and tore into the barracks and defensive positions of the legionaries - only to be greeted with thin air. A commander fell in by Cyfer. "Captain! Where the ancestors are they?" He looked more than furious though he had the same perplexed expression worn by the members of the raiding party.

"I don't know sir, we were only operating at the borders, where the air threats were. Around them the army muttered profanities at the sight of empty bunks and posts. A young officer fell beside them.

"Commander, our dragons report seeing movement in the rubble of the city-" The words were ripped out of his mouth as an explosion rocked the ground. They dragons turned in horror as one of the barracks, and the surrounding creatures were engulfed by fire, followed in secession by another, and another… The commander looked back and yelled something inaudible above the enormous explosions but they all had an idea what it was. The surviving dragons rushed as fast as possible out of the base, only to encounter another force of dragons rising from hiding positions in the rubble of the city.

The legionaries timed their counter attack perfectly, colliding with the disorganized and panicking dragons like a wave and before they could react and the previously outnumbered legion soon turned the table. Spyro saw a dragon bearing down on him and skillfully rolled out of the way before engulfing another in a stream of fire. The scorched dragon screeched and fell off, blindly careening in the air until being met with lances from an imperial soldier.

Dragon after dragon from both sides fell towards the ruins of the city below but it was clear that the empirical forces had no hope against the legion without numerical superiority. The blare of a trumpet resonated through the air once and then again, signaling a full retreat and the wave of dragon parted, the shredded forces of the dragon empire limping back towards the walls with the legionaries in full pursuit. Suddenly, Spyro found himself alone, surrounded by soldiers bearing the pitch black moon. He stopped, staring at a score of dragons encircling him. A dragon that appeared to be a commander hovered in front of him.

"Stand down lightning, there is no way to escape." Spyro growled and looked around him. As much as he hated the prospect of being a prisoner, there really wasn't a way to outfight all of them… unless… He concentrated and felt time slow down. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he searched for his fire. He felt the heat permeate into his body, igniting his core. The legionaries around him stopped and stared in bewilderment as the dragon suddenly glowed a bright orange before they understood what was going on.

"Back!" The commander yelled and dove as rings of fire pulsated from the purple dragon's form. The sky flashed a brilliant white around him as his fire fury scorched everything near him before dissipating into the air, leaving an exhausted purple dragon in its wake. Spyro sagged as his wings stopped carrying him and plummeted. He forced himself to throw open his wings or be dashed by the ground below and managed a rough glide that careened him harshly onto the top of a roof, skidding painfully against the tiles. Spyro gasped for breath and tried to stand before hearing another set of wings behind him. He shakily spun around, watching as a black dragoness clad in armor land in front of him. He got into a clumsy fighting position but was quickly met with a steel shield again his head, throwing him into blackness.

Cynder watched as the dragon she struck was thrown back onto the roof and rolled off, landing with a thud two stories below. She stepped over the edge and stared at the body. The dragon was covered in purple scales and appeared to be very young for a soldier.

She scrutinized at his face, dimly lit by the fires burning in the background. The dragon's helmet had been thrown off in the impact and unveiled a set of golden horns resting atop a purple head. A trail of blood flowed freely out of his mouth and his eyes were closed. Cynder's heart skipped a beat as a flicker of a past memory flashed through her mind. He looked over at the dragon again and froze.

"Shit." She hissed as he dove down and checked for a pulse, letting out a quiet sigh of relief when she found a feint, albeit steady one. "I've got a live one!" She called out at some nearby legionaries, who made their way to her. One of them- a medic- put his head to the dragon's chest and then carefully checked for wounds. "Take him to our new infirmary, he might have some good information for us." The other dragons nodded and carefully lifted the injured lightning and carried him off.

Wing beats behind her caused Cynder to turn and greet Commander Reyden as he landed. His scales were charred and some even cracked and there were multiple gashes across his body.

"Sir, I thought that the fire fury got you." Cynder was more than relieved to see him alive. But she could see that he was less than happy.

"No, I caught a building after getting thrown away. I suppose I'm lucky though because the poor bastard who was in front of me isn't much more than ashes now. Where is he, ill ring his neck until his head falls off?"

"At the infirmary, he will be interrogated later." The commander gave a snort and then glared at her.

"Go do something useful soldier, and next time if you don't address me as commander I'll have your head next to his." The dragon turned and headed off, leaving Cynder to glare at the back of his head.


	5. The Dark Master

Fire. The forge was ablaze in flames, illuminating the night sky with a sickening orange. The door spilled open and two pairs of Wing soldiers came out, struggling to restrain a purple dragon and a barely conscious cheetah. Their commander followed shortly after, casting one last uncaring look at the burning woodworks as it screeched and crumbled.

He turned his attention back to Spyro. "What's the matter boy, not so powerful now that Akyla isn't here to protect your arse?" The purple dragon just glared at him but he only just laughed. "No, I didn't think so. Now tell me Spyro, why do you think we're here?" The purple dragon remained silent, though he cried out painfully when the dragon socked him across the face with iron enforced knuckles.

"I asked you a question." He growled, raising his arm again. Spyro opened his mouth and mumbled something illegible. The dragon halted and leaned closer.

"What did you say?" The purple dragon snapped his head around to face his.

"Burn." Before the dragon could react, a stream of fire leapt from Spyro's jaws and engulfed his head, forcing him to stumble back, screaming as the heat ate away at his scales. The dragons holding him immiedietly and painfully pulled him away and slammed him into the ground, dazing him and cutting off his fire. The dragon Spyro had just burned roared in rage and pain from his burnt face and slashed him hard across the face, leaving a trio of new scars before pomeling him again and again across the chest with claws bared, splattering blood in all directions, making the purple drake screech at the intense pain.

"You little Bastard, he drew a wicked looking knife. I'd skin you had you been anyone else but… but but but… I think I have something even better in store. He suddenly smiled and grabbed Spyro's jaws, ignoring the drake's feeble protests. Where's your fire now dragon? Spyro glared, not caring what the dragon expected and concentrated again, opening his jaws, and when he did so a crystal was suddenly forced into his mouth and immediately all traces of magic were lost to him.

He spat the crystal out and again tried to egnite but only managed to cough out a few embers. The commander quickly grabbed his tongue with his free hand and with the other, held up the knife. "You won't be needing this where you're going." Spyro's eye's widened and he thrashed as much as possible but the other dragon held tight, obviously experienced from previous occasions. The other dragons shifted their attention towards the gruesome spectacle, ignoring their other charge.

A shrill scream cut the process short as Hunter grabbled the sword out of the hands of a gryphon and turned the blade on its former owner before quickly silencing a nearby dragon, the sharp metal clanging as it cut through the soft under scales. The commander growled. "Kill him." Immediately the other dozen dragons surrounded the injured Cheetah, who eyed his opponents carefully. Spyro took the opportunity to roll backwards, knocking down the dragons holding him with his wings and grabbing their bags of crystals, sighing in temporary relief as he once again felt strength and magic flow through his veins. The Wing commander started towards him, still wielding the knife. "Come on little whelp, let's see what you're made of." Before he could get any closer however, Hunter leapt over the ring of enemies around him and slashed at the Wing's back, cutting through the thick scales with a powerful stroke. The dragon howled in pain and whipped around just as the other soldiers swarmed the off balance cheetah. "Spyro, Run!" He shouted before half a dozen swords sank into his body.

The commander turned around to see the purple drake dashing into the sky and roared in anger, taking off in a flash to pursue the purple dragon. Spyro banked left and right in an effort to throw off his pursuers. Only four dragons followed him into the sky and blasts of elemental magic shot passed his wing. He rounded a corner of a skyscraper and then dove in through an open window, sending two dragons lying on top of each other into a fit of panicing wings and claws as they attempted to sit up. Before they could he was already out the other side as the first of his puruers also flamed through the window, and was met with a hard wack of a tail as the female dragon screamed and smacked him into unconsciousness. The other dragons ignored the setback though and concentrated on the purple dragon, who had taken the opportunity to gain healthy distance. As they followed, he nimbly fell from the sky into the maze of buildings below, seeking shelter by blending into the masses- an objective which he found to be impossible as no other dragon had purple scales.

He looked around and ducked into an alleyway, draping on a few cloaks that he found hanging off a line before covering himself and sitting down, trying his best to look like a beggar. The sound of claws clacking against gravel and vocal complaints from citizens told him they were coming and he huddled tighter. The claws stopped in front of the alley as the dragons peered down at him. He could feel their gazes burning into him before their leader spoke. "Hey you!" Spyro's heart skipped a beat. "Crap." He tensed to run. "Have you seen a purple scaled whelping run through this alley?" Spyro almost sighed in relief before putting on a gruff voice.

"Him? Yeah I did, he ran that way!" The dragons nodded and pushed past him, the commander sending his two subordinates to separate alleyways to flush out the dragon. Spyro smiled inwardly until above him a window opened. "Thief!" All eyes turned to a red gryphoness pointing an accusing finger at Spyro. "Hey! He's wearing my clothes!" Spyro deadpanned. "Crap!" He threw the clothes at his pursuers, causing them to curse as they were assaulted with layers of wavy silk while their target ran off again. When he looked back again, he spotted only the commander chasing him, and slowly gaining on him. Spyro coughed and stumbled in the air, the blood loss gradually taking its toll on him. He knew that he didn't have a chance at outrunning him so the only options left were to hide or fight.

He looked back again and to his dismay the dragon was only ten tail lengths behind him and closing fast, not enough time to hide "and frankly not enough time to live if I don't act soon…" They peaked over the southern walls and over the surprisingly empty embattlements, a clear sign that most of the army was already embarking on the long road to Warfang. He could feel the hot, eager breath right behind him. He took a deep breath, it was now or never. As the Wing commander reached out to grab his tail, Spyro suddenly flipped and dove, straight at the top of the wall, his movements quickly matched. Spyro breathed deeply and right above the hard brick, flared his wings and summersaulted over his pursuer before dropping hard onto his back, driving him hard down into the ground. The surprised dragon gave a gruff squawk of surprise before the air was squashed out of his lungs from the impact. Spyro shakily stumbled off and turned, nearly retching when he saw his own handiwork. The dragon before him lay broken, his legs not enough to stop the momentum of his body. His back lay at a sharp angle, evidently broken and Spyro forced himself to look away. The adrenaline powering his actions abruptly left him and he collapsed against the brick, watching as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the sky before his consciousness failed him.

Cold Water threw him back into the land of the awake. He sputtered and gasped and tried to throw himself back onto his feet, failing to do so as he found his limbs bound to a table. He arched his back and threw himself against the ropes to no avail before settling down, defeated.

"About time you stopped struggling." A male voice called beside him, causing him to snap his eyes onto an earth dragon tepping out of the shadows. As his body was bathed in the dim torchlight above him, Spyro found him vaguely familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

"Hello again mister Spyro, I do hope you remember me after our brief encounter in Nova Lumina two years ago." Spyro furrowed his eyebrows. "Commander Corryn?" The dragon nodded, satisfied.

"Aye, I was quite surprised that day at your fighting abilities and again you astound me. Becoming a lightning at such a young age and taking on at least a score of my own legionaries , I am very impressed indeed." Spyro cocked his head, unsure on why his foe would complement him.

"errr, thanks?" Corryn turned back to him. "You do know why you're here though right?" Spyro cast him a quizzical glance. "As you may know, your offensive last night lead to the decimation of your forces. The imperial army lost almost a third of their soldiers and have pulled back from the city. Due to this new development, we are searching for a way to end the rebellion here and now with a decisive push against the imperial army. He stopped and glanced at Spyro, who stared back with a neutral face. And in order to mount such a risky offensive, we need information." Spyro snarled at this.

"Information I don't think you'll get from me." Corryn's expression didn't change.

"Aye, I expected as much and therefore, I regret to inform you that you will now be interrogated until you do give us what we want. I apologize but the next few weeks will not be very pleasant for you. I don't like doing this but I am still a soldier under the great Malefor and as a soldier, I must do what is best for my side. You get that don't you?" Spyro glared at him but dipped his head.

"Good, now I will take my leave but rest assured, I doubt your mind will break. He stepped towards the tent door. Your body on the other hand, I will make sure will receive a proper burial." With that the dragon opened the door, flooding the room with the last bits of sunlight that Spyro knew he would see for a long time.

Spyro opened his eyes to the sight of multiple shadows over him. He looked up, shielding his eyes at the sight of almost a dozen dragons peering down at him. His heart fell. No doubt these were more wings and since he just killed one of their officers… Spyro gave up and fell against the ground. In his tired state he could not hope to overcome anything but a hatchling. He steeled his nerves anyhow and struggled to stand. If he was going to go then he might as well do so face to face with his enemy.

He staggered as he stood and peered into the eyes of the dragon in front of him. Immediately he recognized the bolt of lightning on the crests of their plates. "Lightnings." He muttered. "Are you the dragon called Spyro?" Their leader asked. Spyro nodded and the dragon looked him over. "Akyla wanted us to find you." Spyro looked at him.

"Akyla is dead." "Yes, and in her will she wanted you to be trained by us as a lightning. It is her final wish and we are here to see it carried out. Do you accept?" Spyro's brain churned at the sudden offer, this had been AKyla's plan all along- though she probably would have wanted to train him herself- this was the next best option in case she didn't live long enough to see it through.

Spyro realized that he had nothing left. No house, no forge, no Hunter. The loss of the old cheetah made him look down. He should have fought harder, maybe if he did then he would still be alive, but there was nothing that he could do about that now. He looked back at the lightning, who looked back expectantly and nodded. The dragon returned the gesture and held out a forearm. "Well then Spyro, my name is Captain Cyfer. We've lost too many to count after the battle for Nova Lumina and dragons like you are what we are looking for the fill the ranks. Welcome to the Lightnings Spyro, make Akyla proud.

"GGAAHHHH" Spyro screamed, straining to ignore the painful electric shock that threw him from his brief respite in sleep. A harsh cackling above him signaled the end of the torment as Spyro gradualy readjusted his hazy vision to stare at aelectric dragon above him. "Hello there Spro, my name is Reyden." He took his paws off Spyro's chest, letting small worms of electricity arch between the two in the process, making him spasm as the electricity shot through his nerves. Reyden grinned wickedly at the gasping drake and gave him a moment to recover his breath before placing his paws back down on his chest, making him wheeze as his heavy paws covered almost the entire chest of the smaller dragon. Spyro coughed and glared at him.

"What do you want?" Reyden cocked his head. "I thought Corryn made that pretty clear, although I wouldn't mind reminding you." Another painful burst of electricity ripped a scream from Spyro's throat.

"I want to kill every, last, one, of you- and to do that I want to know where you're hiding, how many of you are left, and a full analysis of your battle tactics. If you grant me these things I will consider letting you live, if not… He let loose another surge of powerful electricity, grinning wildly at the reaction. I 've always wondered how much voltage I need to stop a dragon's heart and you seem like the perfect test subject for my little experiment."

Spyro growled weakly and tried to summon his fire, and not unexpectedly failed as he felt his magic get sucked away by some form of crystal strapped to his chest. Reyden noticed the crystal flash and glared at him.

"You're not seriously expecting that to work were you? Ancestors I didn't expect you lot to be that stupid." He faked a yawn before sending another current through the dragon's body, giving little heed to the pained screams and struggles of his victim. "Unlike you, he stopped and snatched a green crystal from a nearby box, crushing it and absorbing the magic, I can keep this up all day." He prepared for another shock when the tent door flapped open and a armored dragon rushed through and quickly saluted Reyden, who in turn glared at the disruption. "What is it corporal?"

The dragoness took a moment to catch her breath before standing at attention. "Sir, you have an envoy from Malefor regarding the prisoners captured during the battle. She looked at Spyro, err and he personally wants a word regarding this one." Commander Reyden cocked his eyebrow.

"Personally?" He glared thoughtfully at Spyro. "You're lucky today, it seems that a situation demands my attention. " He turned and briskly walked out the door but stopped before exiting to turn and grin wickedly back at his prisoner.

"Enjoy your alone time, there will be plenty of agony awaiting you when I return." With that he turned and pushed out the room. Spyro watched as the tip of his tail whipped out of sight and laid back, trying to relax as much as possible and ignore the involuntary fidgets his limbs were making as the remnants of the electricity flushed through his body. He gulped down as much air as his lungs would allow him.

The messenger cleared her throat, causing Spyro to look at her. "Oh you're still here, and how may I help you?" He spoke with overwhelming sarcasm. The dragoness glared at him under her helmet.

"You can start by losing the attitude Spyro." Her voice sounded vaguely familiar. Spyro stared at her, trying to place the voice.

"Have I met you before?" The dragoness faintly smiled and removed her helmet, revealing onyx colored scales and white horns.

"A long time ago, yes." Spyro's eyes widened. "Cynder?" The dragoness nodded. He looked at her for a moment longer, taking in the differences that two years had brought on.

"You're… bigger." She cast him a mock glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"No, I don't mean it that way, I just mean err…" Spyro cut off when she rolled her eyes.

"I'm kidding, though with introductions aside, she reached into her satchel and took out a small bundle.

"Here, take this." Spyro cleared his throat and shook his chained arms. "Would if I could." Cynder laughed a bit but walked closer, standing beside him. Her expression turned serious.

"Look Spyro, I think you're a good dragon, which is why I'm going to trust you on this. She reached for one of the locks holding his arm in place. I'm going to release your arms so you can eat. If you try to escape I will forcefully knock you out and restrain you and that's something I don't want to have to do. If you do happen to escape, there are guards outside who will probably have you porcupined with javelins in a second and then they're going to have me hanged for releasing a prisoner. She rubbed her chocker, I like having a functional neck so please, please don't even try." She looked at him expectantly. Spyro hesitated for a moment but nodded.

"Don't worry, I'll stay put." Cynder smiled. "Good." She undid the lock on his arms and helped him sit up before giving him the bag, which contained a pile of leaves and berries as well as a few chunks of deer meat. The food itself was by no means pleasant but Spyro cared little as he realized just how hungry he was. Cynder cringed slightly at the speed in which the purple drake emptied the meal.

"Hungry aren't you." She commented while pulling up a cushion to sit on. "Not anymore, thanks." Cynder nodded and took the empty bag and put it back into her satchel. Spyro waited for her to finish before speaking. "Why are you helping me?" Cynder looked at him.

"I did say I owed you one back in Nova Lumina and quite frankly, I still do. Spyro opened his mouth but she placed a paw on his snout, stopping him. I don't know what's going on exactly but when Malefor heard about you he seemed quite… excited I dare say. He rarely bats an eye at the imperialists and lately, since being pushed back to Warfang he's getting more and more agitated. Corryn just came back from a meeting with him and the other generals and he says that he wasn't in a good mood at all. She stared hard at him. Truthfully, you are still my enemy and I will not let you stand in the way of the Dark Master but at the same time there are few good dragons out there now and loosing you would be quite a shame.

Spyro furrowed his scaly brow. "Thanks, I guess, but honestly, are you doing this just because you feel indebted?" Cynder paused and thought about what to say before sighing, defeated. "I'm not going to just forget about it, as much as you insist for me to, but also even though I've know you for only three days you were my friend. What kind of person would I be if I do nothing when something can be done? So maybe it's because I feel indebted but I assure you that's not remotely close to the reason." Spyro opened his mouth but stopped, unsure what to say about this but eventually nodded at her and smiled.

"You know, it's sad that fate had us on different sides of the war." Cynder mirrored his expression. "Yes, maybe some other time, maybe another life." Spyro nodded. "Aye, though chances are it will be the latter." Cynder snorted.

"Don't be so pessimistic, I'll try my best to keep you alive, now I advise you get some rest, I don't think that you'll get too much in the next few days." Spyro nodded and let her lock his arms back into place before she put back on her helmet and walked to the tent door, pausing to cast him one last glance before disappearing.

I don't know what I have against fire, it's just some… remnant from my past experiences." Spyro was trying to come up with a good excuse to explain the lack of use of his element. "Yet you are a dragon Spyro, you are born from your element, forged by fire." A deeper voice addressed him from the surrounding darkness. "Don't get me wrong, I want to be the best I can be on my elemental powers but I haven't exactly had the training. I mean the Lightnings are fantastic trainers in how to fight but only the dragons taught by the guardians are able to utilize their elements to the full extent." "Yet you used a fury." Spyro hesitated. Why exactly was he able to use a fury? He never learned how to use one and the ability has been largely reserved to students of the temple.

"I don't know, maybe I was caught up in the moment? I mean I was quite desperate at that point." A low grumbling chuckle met his response. "You may have been young dragon, but you know what I think? Spyro cocked his head. "What?" A large light gray paw reached out and tapped his chest. "I think that you used something that was hidden from you all along."

"Hidden from me? What do you mean exactly, why have I never been told of this?" The other dragon laughed. "If you've lived your entire life as any other, then others will pass you on as simply another drifting face in a sea of faces. The guardians will make their marks in history as the strongest wielders of their element and the Dark Master as the strongest dragon the world has ever seen. Whatever path they chose to walk, the world follows whether they are good or not. You however, are simply just another dragon." Spyro snorted at this.

"The only purple dragon that has ever been one of the Lightnings."

"Impressive, now tell me, how many other purple dragons are there?" Spyro opened his mouth but hesitated, before muttering, "none." The other dragon laughed again. "Well then I dare say that's hardly worth a boast." "I'm not trying to boast."

"But you were."

"I wasn't."

"Now you're in denial." Spyro grumbled but didn't say anything. "However, you are special Spyro, whether you know it or not and you alone will choose the fate of the realms." Spyro's head perked up.

"I highly doubt that.

" "Then I will prove it to you when the time comes, but there is still many challenges waiting to ensnare you and you will be tested to see if you are truly worthy. Farewell young dragon, I have the uttermost faith that we shall meet again."

When Spyro was thrown back into the realm of consciousness the distinctive sound of dozens of troops grew gradually louder outside his tent. The tent flap opened and Spyro groaned inwardly at the sight of both Corryn and Reyden entering. They however, only cast him a brief glance before standing at attention to the side, near the head of his bed, an act that confused Spyro momentarily before another figure, a head taller than either commander, entered the room.

He was dressed in black garments and wore a black steel mask that not only covered his forehead, but also encircled his jaws and down to his neck. It had a series of latches and strings, allowing the dragon to still move his jaws. The figure looked down at him and suddenly, Spyro felt incredibly small under the piercing gaze of two yellow eyes staring at him from behind the mask. The dragon made a noise, and then another and before Spyro knew it, the sound of guttural laughter rang over him. The dragon stopped and fixated his gaze on him.

"Tell me young dragon, what is your name?" "Sp…Spyro." The purple drake stuttered out, not taking his eyes of the glowing irises above him. "Well then… Spyro, are you aware of who I am?"

"The Dark Master." The larger dragon chuckled. "Yes, many call me that, those who cower in fear of my presence call me that. Will you be one of them?" Spyro swallowed under his stare but attempted to calm his nerves. "No, I won't."

"Good, I had my reservations that one of my own kind was a coward." Spyro cocked his head at this. "Your own kind?" The dragon nodded and placed a paw over his mask, unbuckling the few straps that held it in place and slid it off, revealing dark, eminence purple scales. Spyo's eye's widened as he saw his own lilac scales reflect off the dragon's eyes.

"You're… purple?" "Yes, you see Spyro, my name from birth has been Malefor, the champion of dragon kind, wielder of every element in existence, harbinger of peace and justice for all dragons and our allies. Evidently however, the guardians of my time were too blinded by grandeur and arrogance that they failed to see my true intentions until I confronted all four of them above the burning towers of Warfang a millennium ago.

I killed every one of them and took their powers. He looked away, recalling the memories that had since turned into myth for the rest of dragon kind. Back then though I was stopped, prevented from rebuilding the world under my control. That will not happen again. He looked down at Spyro. "I am going to give you a choice Spyro, join me and I will lead you to a greatness that you cannot hope to fathom. You will have power, control, and wealth. If you choose not to, then you can die with the others who oppose me, forgotten in the pages of history with only the dirt and scavengers to honor you." Malefor stopped and looked down expectantly at Spyro.

"I… I don't know." Power and wealth did sound compelling, and there were many dragons that he would give anything for revenge on… yet it didn't seem just. The words from his dream echoed in his head and he shuddered at the possibility that they were true. He opened his mouth to answer, perhaps if he did choose to side with Malefor he could become someone who would leave their mark on history but he would be giving up on his father, who had fought this dragon and died fighting him, and on hunter, who's lessons on how to be just molded him into what he is, and on Akyla, who died by the hand of his enemy.

Spyro shut his eyes, wincing as the voices of those from his past shouted at him and he sagged when they opened again. "I'm sorry Malefor, but I can't, as much as I want to." He shriveled as two yellow eyes glared down at him but Malefor abruptly turned and walked out. "Then so be it, Reyden, be a little more… convincing towards out friend here. Corryn, you come with me, I must speak with you." The two commanders saluted and Corryn followed in the wake of the Dark Master. When the tent door closed behind them Reyden turned to Spyro again, forming an arch of electricity in between his horns. "Well then Spyro, where did we leave off?"


	6. Guardians

Spyro tried and failed to focus his eyes at the black dragoness that was applying shards of red crystal against his multiple cuts and bruises. He tried to lift his arms to bring the bowl of porridge against his lips but failed miserably, resigning to just sit back and enjoy the soothing feeling as the red crystals did their work.

"How many days has it been?" He grumbled out. Cynder looked up from her activities, frowning at his still full bowl.

"Four days, counting the first night, and you can at least eat the porridge, I had a nightmare of a time trying to sneak that into your tent without being caught. She crossed her arms. Do you know how nerve-racking it is the pass the two guards in front with contraband items?"

Spyro rolled his eyes and coughed, making Cynder sag.

"Yeah, right, not helping." She reached over him and gently held up the bowl to his mouth, letting him take sips. He hungrily gulped down a few spoonfulls and then laid back, grumbling at the sublime feeling of having some warm food in his stomach. Cynder smiled a bit at this and went back to treating his wounds. "How are you even allowed in here anyways?" Spyro asked. "I just tell the guards that I was sent by Corryn to make sure you didn't have any life threatening wounds. It would be a damn shame if an important prisoner were to be killed without any benefit for us. Spyro stared at her. "Oh come one, I'm being realistic." "But they didn't plan to get me any food, that's nice." Cynder stopped. "Well, they were but it was going to be laced with dark crystals to slowly drain our energy and make you ready for a process called corruption."

"Corruption?" "It's something the dark master does, it allows him to basically control dragons by shredding whatever sense of self they have and instead binds them to carry out his commands. It's a very dangerous process however and the survival rate is not that high so few dragons survive, and of those that do a majority of them are either rendered insane or go into comatose from the trauma.

She shook her head. Not a pretty sight to see." "Wait, why does he need to do that though? Hasn't Malefor got enough loyal followers already?" " Well of course, this whole base if full of them; however, corruption not only binds them fully to his control, but also erases all sense of humanity while boosting their elemental capabilities to beyond what can be normally be achieved." Spyro nodded. "Great, so Malefor's got a whole army of super dragons." "Well not exactly army, more like a half dozen." Spyro furrowed his eyebrow.

"Only a half dozen? I expected there to be more." Cynder shifted. "Well, you see, the Dark Master cares for his troops and he never uses them, it is the prisoners- those that you lose- that get selected. Tell me Spyro, how many prisoners have been taken on your way to Warfang?" Spyro thought for a moment. "About four thousand I would say, of those about two thousand dragons." Cynder nodded. "That's about right. Last time I checked a thousand dragons were reported to have escaped in the span of the last two years." "a thousand! What? We haven't had any reports of dragons successfully escaping save for a handful." "Precisely, now from that thousand there were six successes." "Spyro swallowed hard. "How… how do you know all this? They're not going to tell some recruit." Cynder snorted.

"I am not some recruit for your information I am a Leftenant in the legion." "Really? In only two years? Wow, you must have done some pretty amazing things since I saw you two years ago." Cynder looked away, "yeah, I guess you can say that… anyways, I still have a shift to attend to, the legion will be taking off soon, and interrogating is taking much too long. And then she turned and walked through the tent door, opened her wings, and took off. Spyro listened as the wing beats faded and laid back down, rubbing his head with his paws…"wait." He sat back up again.

Cynder had forgotten to strap his arms back. Spyro looked down and grabbed the magic draining crystal tied to his chest. What he just learned about Malefor had to be told to his commanders. Inwardly, he felt guilty for betraying Cynder's trust but he knew that now was not the time for second thoughts as he planned his escape.

Cynder slowed and landed softly before the mouth of an underground passage in the courtyard of Warfang's temple. Four Talon soldiers dressed in civilian garments stood by the entrance. As Cynder stepped forward one of them leveled a long pole arm at her. "Sorry dragoness, but you are not permitted to enter." "Let her in." A booming voice reverberated from within. The guard swiftly raised his weapon again and stood back to attention as if he had never moved. Cynder nodded in thanks and walked in. The brick lining of the square corridor was sloped to lead deeper underground and was about the width of a grown dragon with wings straightened. She stopped before a large iron door and pulled a lever, triggering some mechanism that slowly swung the doors open.

Inside lay a large cavern walled in by bricks, the rounded sides sported enclaves housing massive stone statues of noteworthy dragons accurate in size and proportion to their real life counterpart. At the other end of the cavern layedlaid an exposed side, which dropped sharply into a colossal cave lighted with thousands of magical torches. In it lay the scattered remains of an abandoned city centuries old with mostly intact buildings. On the ledge stood Malefor, who had his back turned to her. As she glided to land beside him he turned to look down at her.

"Do you know where we are?" Cynder took a gulp of the stale air and a long look at the eerily lit ruins. "Old Warfang."

"Yes, it was here that I had been trained by the guardians. It was also here that I had my final battle with them. A long, hollow groan resonated through the cave a a draft of wind passed through the empty corridors and lifted a cloud of dust that had settled over the floors and other surfaces.

"For almost a thousand years the inhabitants of Warfang never knew of the dead city only meters below their roads and homes." He turned to look at her. "So my daughter, how has the dark crystals affected our patient?" Cynder paused. "They, are uh… slowly working I guess, though I still can't agree with the plan."

"My plan is not for you to agree or disagree on, it is to be carried out no matter your own personal attitude." Cynder huffed but looked away.

"Yes father." Malefor smiled. "Good, now tell me, does he trust you yet?"

"I think he does."

"Good, as I have told you, use his psychology against him, find his weaknesses and learn how to manipulate them." Cynder looked away.

"Yes, sir." Malefor looked at her and she shifted uncomfortably as he scrutinized her.

"Cynder… you're not going soft are you?"

"no… of course not." His tone remained neutral but she could tell that there was an edge of anger.

"Do you know why out of all the whelps I passed by after taking Iron Heights I decided to take you under my wing?" "Because you said that you saw potential." "Yes, I did see potential, and because of that instead of letting you starve with the thousands of others I decided to train you personally and allow you to become a legionary." "It was because of you that I had half a mind to even allow those rebels to even think about bargaining with me for some prisoners!"

Cynder looked up with a perplexed expression. "What? But-"

"But? Did you seriously think that I would give up an entire city for not even two percent of my troops? Have you any idea how close I was!" Cynder froze under his furious gaze but to her relief he suddenly repostured and looked back over the city.

"My apologies Cynder, but you must understand, we would have been victorious by now had we not lost that city. Now I believe that I must attend to our prisoner. I've given him a chance to decide. He pulled out a dark crystal and looked it over. Let us hope that the amount of dark crystals you fed to him will be sufficient. he will survive, waiting ten more generations for the next one would be such a shame." Cynder shifted uneasily but followed.

Spyro held his breath as another pair of wing beats rushed past him before diving from the rubble he was hiding under and shot to the next set of ruins that was large enough to hide his unfortunately very noticeable scales from the patrols that were combing the entire walled city for him. The afternoon sun allowed him to view the black line that hovered over the walls, built of legionaries standing side by side, ready to pounce on him at a moments notice. He sagged against the wall. He remembered the horrifying roars of anger the Malefor had emitted when him and Cynder had spotted the two unconscious guards in front of the tent.

He had barely made it out before they arrived. "Why the hell was she with Malefor?" Spyro asked himself, still perplexed at the sight of them walking together towards his tent. After all, she was the one who lectured him on the wrongdoings the dragon caused and yet… The whole situation made his head hurt so he prioritized his escape first. When night finally fell the legionaries quickly lit torches and illuminated the walls, deterring any attempt to escape. A squad of reinforcements alighted to land on top of the west walls, passing the line and landing before a hastily made tent. The legionaries pushed through the tent flap and rushed in. "What do you lot want?" A less than happy commander Reyden sat there, his eyes crazed with both fury and something akin to fear. Spyro noted this and shuddered, feeling slightly apologetic at the fact that he would soon be facing Malefor's fury.

"Sir, we've finished lighting the torches, he won't be getting out of this city sir. One of the officers spoke. Hmm, yeah, I'm sure he won't… Spyro smirked to himself. "Alright, be on the watch, go." The officer nodded and exited. "Alright, Mayz, Snow, you two stay here, be on the watch, Rayn and Lynius, follow me. Rayn! Rayn?" The dragon looked around. "Where the bloody hell is Rayn?" He yelled out, not noticing a shadow leap from the other side of the wall, disappearing into the shadows of the forest, almost invisible against the fading light.

Spyro silently laughed to himself as the torches upon the walls grew dimmer and dimmer in the distance until he could barely see them. Beyond him the expansive waters of the sea of Warfang loomed closer and closer and he used the ocean winds to soar even higher, following the dimly visible coastline. Hopefully he could find where the imperial fleet had hid itself; after all, more likely than not after the disaster of the battle the remaining army would most likely be stationed not far from the ships, in case of needing an emergency escape route. In the distance, a dim flash of light caught his attention and he strained his eyes, hoping that it was the imperial army but couldn't discern what it was; however, he tilted his wings, cutting over the water to reach his new destination. He stumbled in the air and blinked, confused. His wings suddenly felt extremely tired.

A piercing headache suddenly shot through his brain and he cringed, nearly dropping out of the air before his vision cut to black. The dragon wavered in midair for a moment before his wings failed him, sending him plummeting towards the sea. Unconscious, Spyro hit the water with a tremendous splash and sank, hitting the plate of a massive shell that brought him back onto the surface. With silent, yet massive strokes, a giant leviathan emerged from the waters, ferrying the purple dragon out into Open Ocean.

"How do you even do that?" Spyro grumbled, annoyed as he awoke in a brightly lit library with a huge hourglass in the centre. The slowly dripping sand had already almost filled the bottom. "Being bestowed with the powers of the ancestors allows me to do many things." An old teal dragon stood before him, peering down at the drake through faded, yet lively eyes that sparkled with wisdom and intelligence.

"Whatever, I'm just going to hope that I haven't drowned yet." The old dragon shook his head.

"You have nothing to worry about young dragon, your body is in good hands while you're here." The purple dragon looked at him.

"Speaking of why I'm here… wherever here is, I would like to know who you are and what is my purpose of being in this place." The dragon nodded.

"Yes, you are right. My name is the Chronicler and currently you are in a dream made by me to communicate to you. As for your purpose, that I cannot explain in what time we have." Spyro furrowed his eyebrow.

"What do you mean? I thought that I was just some ordinary dragon, so why now do you bother to tell me that I am any different from the others?" "It was simply a matter of time Spyro, it is now that you are needed more than ever. Why you were chosen by the ancestors, I cannot tell you, it is something you will find out; however, as I have always said, it is a difficult journey that lies before you and you will need to learn from the best to master our abilities. He looked at Spyro. Tell me young dragon, have you ever heard of the guardians?"

"Yes, they are the leaders of the dragon empire and the strongest of their elements." The chronicler tilted his head. "Yes, that they are, and not only that, they are also the greatest teachers that are alive in the dragon realms and the bearers of all the secrets ever passed down in the history of dragon kind. They will train you Spyro, as I have instructed them to." Spyro cocked his head. "The guardians? I'm sorry dragon from my dreams but as much as I like this whole special talk you're giving me but I think I'm going insane, talking to some figment of my imagination." The chronicler rolled his eyes but didn't reply. "No worries Spyro, you will see soon enough, and I will await the day we will see each other face to face."

The cold splashes of sea water gradually woke the purple dragon. He sputtered, spitting out sea water before laying back down, gasping for air. He rested his horns against the sand, looking up at the sky as the warm waves washed over his scales. "Were the hell am I?" He gasped to himself. He could have sworn that he heard the sound of wing beats in the distance but couldn't distinguish it from the pounding of his head. He closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his body. The wing beats drew closer and Spyro realized that it was not some part of his imagination. He scanned the sky, his eyes squinting at a figure coming out of the sun.

Suddenly, he was cast into the shade as the dragon flared his wings and landed right beside him, his large form stirring up a cloud of dust over the purple drake. Spyro spat the sand that had gotten into his mouth and glared at the fiery red dragon that stood peering down at him.

"Hello there, do you know where I am?" Instead of answering the dragon posed his own question.

"Are you Spyro?" The purple drake stared at him, confused.

"Yes…did-"

"Good, I am Ignitus, the Guardian of fire. Follow me young dragon." Spyro froze as his dream rushed back to him. Perhaps it wasn't his mind then… Either way, he rolled onto his feet and followed the dragon as he took off again, heading towards a castle far above them at the peak of a looming cliff.

"You were found weaving in and out of consciousness at Dragon Shores this morning, had it not been for Ignitus you would have most likely drowned when the tide rose again."

"On that note however, good work Ignitus, it would seem that the pool of visions does serve its uses fairly well." The red dragon nodded to his colleagues. "As I've had to reassure you lot more times than I can count. He turned to look at Spyro. Anyhow purple dragon, I have foreseen your arrival and your accommodations have been prepared for you." Spyro cast him a blank face.

"What? Accommodations? And why do you mean you've prepared for my arrival?" Ignitus stared at him. "Do you not know of your heritage you dragon?" Spyro shook his head.

"Not really, though this one dragon has been telling me strange things about being purple recently?"

"What dragon Spyro?" Spyro rubbed his neck. "Well you see, he uh… appears in my dreams." The green one named Terrador scoffed. "Dreams young dragon?" "You never know Terrador, a dragon's dreams can be visions as well." The ice guardian Cyril interjected.

"Actually, there has been many instances in the past where magic has been able to influence the sub-consciousness of a dragon." Volteer continued. Spyro watched, nearly amused as the arguments continued in a circle but Ignitus cleared his throat and glared at them.

"If you've had enough… he returned his gaze back to Spyro. Tell me young dragon, who was this dragon?" Spyro bit his lip.

"Well… he called himself the chronicler, and that's all I knew about him." The arguments stopped and the guardians all turned to stare at him incredulously. "Young dragon, where did you hear of that name?" Spyro shrugged.

"He told it to me in a dream, why is he important?" Ignitus didn't answer bit instead turned to the other guardians.

"The time has finally come." He breathed out. "Yes, it has been well over a thousand years." Volteer agreed. They turned back to Spyro. "Young dragon, have you ever heard about the legends of the purple dragon?" He shook his head.

"Well then you will have a lot of learning to do, get some rest Spyro, this temple will be your new home for quite a long time." Spyro opened his mouth to object but Terrador silenced him. "The chronicler is right Spyro, you are a dragon with special abilities beyond that of any other. We need you to train with us Spyro, you may be the dragon Empire's last hope against the Dark Master. Cyril led him through the spacious hallways of the temple. He stopped before one room and produced a key, which he gave to Spyro. When the purple dragon disappeared into his room Cyril swiftly walked back to the vision room.

"The prophecy of the purple dragon has finally come true then he asked. The other dragons nodded. I've waited so long until I thought that this day would never come." "We all have Cyril, we all have." Ignitus placed a paw over his friend's shoulder. "The Chronicler told us almost a century ago, when we only weeks into guardianship that we were to prepare for this day and now it is here and we must put all our preparations to use. Spyro may not be more than a teenager now but soon he will have the weight of dragon kind resting on his shoulders. We must not allow him to become another Malefor." The other dragons nodded. "We will allow him to rest for a couple of days, to adjust to the temple of Starsrise before we begin training him."

The screams of hhundreds of encaged dragons pierced Spyro's eardrums. He was inside a castle, not any normal castle, but one with towering walls with cells going up their lengths. Within the cells were hundreds of dragons, one per cell, going straight up until the walls ended. To his horror on the floor was a enormous device, four dark crystals the size of at least two grown dragons were stuck in a square, each attached to a chains that connected to a single platform in the center. On the circular platform were six shackles, adjustable to fit a hatchling to a full grown dragon. The screams of the other dragons were drowned out by a pair of heavy oak doors opening and the scraping of chains against the ground as a pair of armed guards dragged a struggling dragoness into the chamber.

Suddenly, a hundred eyes were on her as her cries were alone to echo from the vast walls. Spyro's eyes widened as the frantic emerald eyes gazed deep into his for a split second before she was forcefully shoved onto the platform and chained, a shackle for each limb. Cynder struggled vainly against her chains when another dragon entered the room. His foreboding presence sucked the voices out of every single dragon in the room and the click clack of his claws was suddenly able to be head. He stopped before the dragoness, who stared at her with eyes half filled with rage, half filled with genuine confusion and sorrow. She searched his eyes with hers for an answer.

"Why?" Spyro barely heard her question.

"Why? I think you know exactly why. I raised you to be something greater and yet you let me down again and again. This is my last ultimatum for you Cynder, and this time, if there is no failure other than death."

Spyro gasped as he walked over to one of the crystals and concentrated, a wave of black magic glowed around him and emanated into the crystals before abruptly a beam of dark light shot across the chains and into Cynder's body. The wails of the prisoners resumed, drowning out the screams of absolute pain from the black dragoness. Spyro himself watched horrified as her eyes flashed between green and white as her pupils dilated and a strange darkness fell over her body. He reached out, straining to make his way towards her but found himself frozen in place, forced to bear witness to the gruesome spectacle. Cynder's body convulsed as the darkness fully took over and suddenly the screams stopped and she fell limp.

For a moment Spyro was frightened that she was dead but then she twitched, and ever so slowly raised herself back onto her feet. Malefor himself walked over and undid the shackles, which fell away. He gently tilted her head to look at him with a paw before smiling and stroking her neck. "I knew I could count on you Cynder, now, I do believe that you have some work to do. Cynder nodded. "Yes I certainly do." Spyro gasped as her glowing eyes suddenly fixed onto his own. "Don't worry master, Spyro will be back soon." She grinned wickedly at Spyro, who involuntarily shivered before Cynder turned and followed Malefor out the door, leaving the hundreds of tormented bodies to wail into the darkness.

Spyro shot up out of his cushions breathing hard. He looked around, only to see that he was in a brightly lit circular room with a large bowl in the middle filed to the brim with luxurious pillows. He looked around the walls, eyeing the expensive paintings that hung on the walls.

He stared at them, fascinated as the story of dragon kind was told in the vivid artworks of the most famed artists from the last millennium. The dream rushed back to him and he shuddered.

Had it been just another dream? Or was it another vision? Spyro desperately hoped for the former. A knock on the door caused Spyro to look up.

"Come in." The door opened and Ignitus walked in and sat down.

"Good morning Spyro, did you enjoy your first night?" The purple dragon nodded. "Good, as you know, you are here to be trained by us. The training will be intense and you may grow to hate it but it is in our hope that you will understand why we are doing this, why the ancestors have wanted this to be done. Spyro nodded again.

"Good, then I will show you the facilities of the temple. This will be your home for a long time so I would recommend you get used to it." Spyro stopped him.

"What do you mean? Are you saying that I'm being forced to stay here?"

"Goodness no young dragon, I am mearly saying that you will have to devote a long duration of your time here, you are always welcome to venture into the city during your free time. He stared at him. Look Spyro, at times you may feel stressed and perhaps even frustrated but know that what you do, it will affect the rest of dragon kind. They're all counting on you. Everyone." Spyro opened his mouth but couldn't find a reply to this. "Alright Ignitus, I am willing to trust you on this." The older dragon smiled. "Very calm and collected, I see you going great heights young dragon, I promise Spyro, and we will not fail you." The purple dragon nodded and flashed him a smile.

Spyro groaned as hot water flooded over his scales. The soothing sound of splashing water reverberated through his ears. It had been a long time since he had last been able to take a hot Shower.

The plitter platter of drops of water gave way to the sound of approaching claws. Spyro looked up to see another dragon around his age pass by, trying to find his own unoccupied stall for showering. Spyro gave a sigh. As he had come to discover in the past two years, the temple was full of dragons his age, more than he had probably ever see but seen but he was friends with a surprising small number of them. This was partly due to the fact that the training with the guardians left him with little time to socialize but also, since most of the students were unknowing why Spyro himself received special training, there was always an air of jealousy that permeated through the majority of his conversations.

He cut the water and shook himself dry, taking a moment to marvel at the ornate murals on the dome shaped room. "Even in the washrooms…" He muttered before opening the heavy marble door and walking out. A fiery red dragon his age bumped past him on the way, stumbling and grabbing at the wall for support.

"Hey Spyro, sorry, it's been a long morning." Spyro smiled slightly. "Really? I could've sworn you just woke up Flame." "Details, I swear, the wine here is absolutely potent! Anyways, I thought you were going to wake me." Spyro rolled his eyes. "I tried, in fact I knocked on your door about four times before giving up."

"Oh, well then I should probably get ready for classes." Spyro nodded.

"Yeah, you have a huge battle test today." He turned and walked down the hall, chuckling when the red dragon cursed and hurried away.


	7. Chronicle

Three fireballs impacted three different ape dummies almost simultaneously, lighting them on fire and setting them into a frenzy. Another dummy flew past and knocked into the wall, dissipating into a cloud of hay and smoke. An ogre dummy roared and brought its hammer down at the purple dragon only for him to flip out of the way and leap off its arm, front flipping and bringing down his tail blade in a savage swoop onto the top of the it's skull, turning it into a cloud of smoke and straw.

Spyro landed in a defensive pose, scanning the training room for any more opponents only to find none.

"Good work young dragon." He turned and smiled at the four guardians watching from the sidelines.

"Now I would probably have had you continue but the other students of the temple will need to use the remaining dummies for their exams and seeing how you have just single handedly defeated the highest tier training dummies without so much as a scratch- a feat that I don't believe has been managed thus far, I believe that you should be granted the rest of the day for rest and respite." Spyro panted but nodded graciously.

"You have the key to access the vault, get anything you need and make sure to be back by curfew. Spyro nodded and walked to the heavy wooden doors, opened them, and took off. Ignitus waited until he could no longer hear the purple dragon's wing beats before closing the doors again.

"Ignitus, do you think it was wise to allow him to access the vaults?" Cyril questioned.

"It is easier for use, we are busy as you know. Besides, it is meticulously counted by the moles so I am aware of any inconsistencies to what he reports." Volteer spoke. The ice guardian nodded.

"Has there been any?"

"No, none at all."

"Good, it would seem that the ancestors chose well."

"Yes, at least there is some good news." Terrador spoke.

"Our army has completely lost foot in Warfang and we've had to retreat back into the Valley of Avalar to await reinforcements." "There is still stiff resistance in Port Silversail and our troops are still on the outskirts of the city." Cyril added. Ignitus looked into the pool of vision, concentrating until the surface rippled and formed the image of a walled port city with chimneys of smoke coming out of different places. A mass of armed dragons lined the scorched area outside the city. "At least we have made some process in dislodging the dark master's forces there though."

"Aye, we have but there are rumors that the dark master has a new weapon that he is going to unleash soon and this worries me greatly." Ignitus looked up

"Do you have any information on it?"

"Hardly, all our spies have heard is that it is a breakthrough in his experiments in dark crystals so through the information that master Spyro has provided us two years ago, we have reason to believe that he may successfully corrupted even more dragons." Cyril shook his head.

"It's disturbing, for every success there are thousands of deaths, it would be disastrous for morale should the public ever know.

" "Which is why they won't Cyril." Ignitus replied.

"We have already told Spyro to not let that secret out and that leaves us as the sole holders of this information."

"Alright, but we must still prepare for the worst." Volteer replied. "

Which is why I have assignments for each of you." Ignitus spoke.

"Final exams for the students are today an then they will be granted a hiatus from studies. In the meantime I am sending you to different points along the front line to see how we can improve our condition in battle." Terrador nodded.

"That would be ideal, we can bear witness to the war first hand. Where do you want us to go?" "Terrador, I want you to go with Cyril to the valley of Avalar, it's a big place so I think the two of you will very busy. I will go to the troops staying outside Silversail." "How about me Ignitus?" Volteer spoke up.

"You Volteer will stay here."

"What? But Ignitus, I am the most capable in researching this new threat!" "Which is why I need you here Volteer, I want you to use your laboratory to find a way to counteract this magic. He paused. And I will also need you to keep watch and run the temple. You will have control over everything until I get back." Volteer's eyes brightened slightly.

"Alright, when will you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, right now we still must finish the exams and see our students through."

"Alright then, we must hurry, leave a note for Spyro when he gets back, you may not be back for a few weeks and unlike the rest of the students here his training will continue." "Yes, you'll also be in charge of his training Volteer, the upcoming weeks will be quite busy for you." "Speak for yourself Ignitus, best of luck to you lot." Ignitus nodded.

"Likewise, now go get the students, it is time to see how far they have progressed."

Flame eyed his opponent carefully, his calculating eyes tracing every move of his opponent. A slim electricity dragon matched his every move from the opposing side of the arena. His name was Farro and was one of Flame's best friends in the temple; however, in the arena, he was just another enemy that stood between him and the top marks of his class. Farro moved first, arching three bolts of lightning in quick succession they fell short and instead thundered against the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust.

Flame narrowed his eyes, anticipating when his opponent will pop out of the dust. Instead of a golden dragon another bolt of lightning shot through the dust and whizzed past his ear, making him duck and distracting him long enough for Farro to burst from the cover of dust and slam straight into his flank.

Flame yelped in surprise but rolled with the impact, throwing the other dragon off with his hind feet and tossing multiple fireballs wildly in his general direction. He was rewarded with a painful hiss as one of his fireballs grazed Farro's back. Flame's momentary advantage was short lived however as the agile dragon sprung back and attempted to ram him with his horns, a move flame countered with his own, using his larger frame to toss away the smaller dragon before pouncing at him. Farro rolled out of the way and to Flame's surprise, landed a powerful hit with his tail as he did, knocking the fire dragon back. The smaller dragon took advantage of this and fired a long arc of electricity straight into Flame's side, throwing him back and knocking him into the ground.

The fire dragon howled in pain as his muscles spasmed out of his control and struggled to regain his balance but fell again as Farro collided against him and pinned his chest against the ground with his sharp horns. "Stop!" Terrador yelled from the sidelines and the electric dragon leapt off him, letting flame struggle back onto his feet. "Flame!" The fire dragon stood straight, panting but looking the earth guardian in the eye. "Yes sir?" "Flame, as impressive your abilities are, you failed to defeat Farro, why is that?" Flame stayed silent. "You failed because you became predictable, as you may have thought how Farro would move he knew how you would and so he got an early advantaged against you." Flame nodded.

"Yes Terrador." The older dragon nodded.

"Good, make sure you do not make this mistake again. You still are in the top ten percent however for this year so congratulations." Flame nodded. "Thank you Terrador." The guardian nodded.

"Dismissed."

Flame growled and kicked a pebble, watching it skid out into the water and sink. He was in the temple courtyard and beyond the walls in the distance he could hear the faded yelling and clanging emanating from the marketplace. He sighed and unfurled his wings and flew up onto the temple walls overlooking the vast city perched on the cliff. He turned and padded along the wall to the other side of the temple which overlooked the sheer thousand foot drop and the distant beaches of dragon shores far below. He stopped when he spotted a pink scaled dragoness perched over the edge of the cliff, staring down with interest.

Flame grinned to himself and fell into a stealthy pose, sneakily crawling towards her. The dragoness was fixated at whatever she saw at the bottom of the cliff that she didn't notice as another dragon approached and sat down behind her. Flame snickered to himself and suddenly, with one quick pushed, shoved her off the edge. A surprised scream met his actions before a second later the dragoness flew back up, hovering and glaring at him.

Flame looked her in the eye and burst out laughing. She gave final annoyed look at him before landing beside the red dragon and folding her wings. "What exactly was that for?" she asked. Slightly annoyed.

"Hah Ember, you should have been paying more attention." Ember rolled her eyes.

"I can say the same for you during Volteer's lectures Flame." Flame snickered.

"As if you can say that you never dozed off in his class."

"No, everyone has, you just have more times than anyone else."

"Whatever, so how did your day go?" Ember snorted.

"Won the first two and lost the third to Tarya, that one earth dragoness. How about you?" Flame grubbed,

"Made it all the way to the top ten percent of our class." Ember's eyes widened.

"Really? Well congratulations, who did you lose to?" Flame sagged slightly.

"Farro." Ember cocked her eyebrow.

"Farro? The one that you always say that you can beat?" Flame looked away.

"Yeah…" The pink dragoness giggled slightly and tilted his head back to look at her.

"Well I'm still proud of you Flame." She rubbed her nose against him, an action he eagerly returned.

"Yea thanks, so what are you doing here?" He questioned. Ember pointed downwards towards the shore. Flame squinted his eyes and was able to make out a purple form laying on the sand.

"Is that… Spyro?" Ember remarked. "I haven't seen him move for like a long time, what do you think he's doing?" Flame shrugged.

"I don't know, you want to go ask him?" Ember nodded and stood up, looking at their target for one more moment before a playful smile took over her features.

"Hey flame?" The red dragon stood and looked at her.

"Yeah?" She shoved off him with her forepaws and fell back over the edge, spinning and unfurling her wings in midair.

"Race you to the bottom!"

Spyro was soaring at intense speeds over the ocean at intense speeds. Faster than any dragon, he shot over the water, which remained strangly placid as he rocketed past. In front of him passed by a chain of islands covered with dense forest a port city brushed underneath him as he was once again over the ocean. Spyro's eyes widened as a monstrous leviathan rose through the surface, its giant flipper showering him with a cascade of water as he passed.

In front of him the air slowly became misty and soon Spyro found himself in the middle of a storm, no, dozens of swirling funnels of water and wind that raged past, arching lightning and bellowing thunder drowning out the howl of the wind and the crashes of the enraged ocean. He yelled in fright as one of these tornadoes nearly engulfed him and shut his eyes. When he opened them he was surrounded by white clouds, swirling in a densely packed circle around him. Past them he could still see the storm raging but here, in the eye, there was no sign of the surrounding calamities. Underneath him a island made of completely white rock jutted out of the placid waters and he found himself drawn to it. He landed softly on the rock and in front of him a portal appeared, beckoning him to enter. The purple dragon stared at it, letting it draw him in. A familiar face greeted him on the other side.

"Hello again young dragon, it has been awhile hasn't it?" Spyro smiled.

"Two whole years Chronicler." The older dragon nodded.

"I trusts that your training with the guardians has paid off?" Spyro nodded.

"Good, because soon you will be needing every ounce of strength and skill to overcome the challenges that await you. Spyro cocked his head. "Challenges?" The chronicler nodded.

"Yes, they will come sooner than you think and that gives us little time to finish the last of your training."

"What final part?" Spyro asked. The chronicler looked down at him.

"Your elements Spyro, the guardians only know so much, they may teach a dragon how to use their element, but even they do not know how to unlock those that are hidden from you."

"Then what must I do?" Spyro questioned him.

"Come find me Spyro, and I will show you how to wield the four elements bestowed upon you by the ancestors. You will not need to worry about where to go for I have already prepared transport for you."

"Wait, but Im here now!" Spyro protested. The chronicler shook his head. "No, do not forget that you are still dreaming young dragon, and there is only so much I can do for you here. We must meet in person Spyro and the sooner the better, with each passing day the dark master's forces grow stronger and ours weaker. You are needed more than ever Spyro." The purple dragon nodded.

"Good young dragon, now wake up, your friends are here."

Spyro's eyes shot open to the worried stares of three other dragons. Flame, Ember, and Ignitus all breathed a collective sigh of relief as he panted hard.

"Holy shit dude, what happened?" Flame yelled at him, causing Spyro to wince as a pang of af agony rocked through his head at the loud noise.

"Watch yourself young dragon." Ignitus cautioned him and flame fell silent. Spyro blearily realized that he was lying back down on the beach, the gently lapping of water close enough to be heard clearly. He groaned and clutched his head.

"Spyro, what happened?" Ignitus asked this time.

"The… the Chronicler, he came to me." Spyro stuttered. Flame and ember exchanged glances.

"The chronicler? Who is that?" Ignitus ignored them.

"Really? What did he want?" Spyro repeated the conversation again in his head.

"He said that he wanted me to go to him so that he can unlock my elements? "Flame and Ember looked at him as if he had grown another head.

"Uh What?"

"How will you find him?" Ignitus questioned.

"He told me that he would find me, all I have to do… he pointed at the ocean, is fly." The fire guardian nodded.

"Then it is best if you go to him, it isn't good to keep the chronicler waiting. Spyro nodded and unfurled his wings, catching sight of Flame and Ember's confused expressions. He chuckled slightly at this.

"I'll tell you when I get back!" With that, he took a running start and leapt into the sky, furling his wings flying towards the horizon. As the fire guardian watched, his charge for the last two years quickly became nothing more than a purple speck in the sky."

"Watch yourself young dragon."

"Huh, wow way to play favorites." Flame muttered from behind him, making Ignitus turn and look at the two dragons staring back with utter confusion written on their faces. He raised a wing and draped it over them, his large wings easily reaching over their heads.

"There are many things that you do not know in this world, that I do not know, and as bleak as it is we probably never will. This world is a big place young dragons and even a dragon won't live long enough to learn everything."

"Uh, that's deep and all- and dark! Ember cut in. What does that have to do with anything?" Ignitus smiled.

"Not everyone is a normal dragon, we all have our roles to play, truthfully I don't know more about Spyro than any of you but the chronicler, he is a special dragon, one who is said to live for millennia, watching and writing the triumphs and failures of each age. Only he knows what we will accomplish and thus I don't bother worrying."

"Wait, so you're just going to let Spyro fly out towards the middle of the ocean? Once he gets past the Oceanwind Isles there won't be any more land until he hits Artisan a thousand miles away!" Flame proclaimed. "Trust me flame, you will see him again, I can promise you that. Now I must get back to the temple, I was in the middle of a test when you two came to me." The two dragons nodded and parted ways with the fire guardian.

In retrospect Spyro decided that flying headlong into the open ocean may not have been the best idea. Even though he was always conditioned to fly far and fast no dragon could last all the way to the nearest piece of land: the Oceanwind Isles.

"And I'm not even heading that direction." Spyro gasped as the burning sensation in his wings grew almost unbearable and urged himself to focus on something else but the feeling gradually spread. He cursed under his breath, what the ancestors was he thinking? Perhaps if he glided he could rest enough to be able to reach…" He blinked, noticing that his wing had tilted dangerously and struggled to right himself.

"What was that…" He shook his head and squinted. The ocean warped in his vision and he blinked again, this time barely pulling up as he skimmed over the top of a low floating cloud, trails of mist streaking from his wingtips.

"No no no not here!" Spyro looked around wildly, trying to find any trace of land. In the distance he could have sworn he saw the rocky peaks of the mountainous Oceanwind Isles and flapped his wings faster, desperate to make it there before… His head swam and he veered downwards dangerously as the fringes of his vision tinted black. Spyro closed his eyes as the pain became unbearable and flapped hard to stay airborne but losing his entire perception of direction. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the sky before the surface of the water swallowed him. The impact was excruciating and immediately the purple dragon was thrown into unconsciousness.

Spyro was able to catch small glimpses of the surreal experience he was in during the flashes of time he spent weaving in and out of experience. The first glimpse had been of water, getting darker and darker. The second had been a vast shape that slowly circled under him. At first Spyro had assumed it was a whale of sorts but then he glimpsed eight enormous flippers, each twice his length. In the still rational spot in his mind Spyro wondered what the chances were of discovering such an enormous organism. The other part of his mind was panicking at the prospect of dying from the water or within the belly of the thing.

Thankfully the next time he awoke he was greeted with the wonderful warm sun. At first he thought that he was on some tropical beach as the ground under him was covered with kelp and layered with different seaweeds that had attacked to the rock but looking ahead, he spotted a distinctive pattern on the rock leading to an enormous head. "W…what?" Now the rational side of his mind backtracked. He wasn't dead, but he was now at the will of a giant beast. He didn't have time to mull over his predicament before he zoned again out of consciousness.

Spyro slowly opened his eyes to the slow crashing of ocean waves. The warm water lapped over his belly scales, pushing him to get up. Spyro groaned and struggled to his feet, his weak limbs shaking and his throat completely parched and dry. Around him he marveled at the extraordinary pearly white sand and close by, a pearly white mountain of marble that stood like a monument over the shores. Spyro's eyes focused on what appeared to be a set of grand doors that almost looked engraved into the sheer Cliffside. Intrigued, he sauntered to stand before the grand gates. _Click!_ He looked down startled as the stone tile under his paw clicked and depressed.

With a deep gratting sound the gates slowly slid open, revealing a dimly lit passageway carved into the stone. The purple dragon ignored his fatigue the best he could and entered cautiously into the corridor. In retrospect going into some mysterious cave on some random island wouldn't have fit in as the best of ideas but right now he felt as if he was somehow… guided.

Spyro watched in fascination as the torches lit by themselves as he passed. The tunnel soon funneled out into a enormous cavern with a large lake in the center and multiple floating rock platforms magically suspended over the water. Spyro immediately ran over and plunged his maw into the water, shuddering as the crisp water washed over his parched lips and throat. With his thirst quenched he walked over to one of the large veins of red crystals jutting out of the floor. Since the Dark Master had taken over the crystal mines, he had seldom seen these rare crystals. He knew however that they supplied Dragons with vital energy unmatched by anything else. The temple had been able to provide some crystals to its students from smaller mines but none of them seamed to glimmer as much as the one he stood before now.

Spyro grinned and brought his claws down, shattering the largest vein, closing his eyes as the shards emanated warm, red energy that he quickly soaked up. His eye's shot pen again, this time alert and watchful. Something was different. The welcoming air of the cavern was no longer present and deep down he felt the presence of something… ominous.

"Who's there?" He called out, early jumping when the low whistling of wind drifted past from somewhere in the room. The dripping of water off the stalagmites seemed to get louder and more rapid… His eyes switched back to the lake, catching the glimpse of a shadow pass under the surface of the water. Spyro snarled and got into a defensive stance and the creature, seemingly realizing that it had lost the element of surprise, stopped, and slowly emerged out of the water. Spyro's growl died in his throat as a misty apparition of an adult ice dragoness appeared before him, the mist wavering with each silent step. She looked down at him with fevered eyes.

"Hello there…son."

"M…mother?" Spyro stepped back as the figure approached again.

"Yes Spyro, come to me, come join won't you? I am so very lonely here." She reached forward with a paw at the purple dragon, who scrambled back fearfully. The ice dragoness stopped

"Why won't you join me son?" As Spyro watched frozen, her face distorted, the placid featured suddenly twisting into a ghoulish rage as the eyes rolled back into her head, dripping blood out of the sockets that splattered against the ground.

"Come here Spyro! Let me touch you!" She was suddenly in front of him, here socket less eyes staring deep into his, her face twisted into a smile, revealing rows of enormous, white fangs. Spyro screamed and shot back, just in time to avoid a furious bite, the fangs closing where his head had been just a second earlier. His own cries were suddenly drowned out by eerie, screeching laughter as the beast in front of him slowly began to fall apart, the scales dropping to reveal exposed flesh.

"WHAT? ARE YOU GOING TO ABANDON ME AGAIN?" She lunged forward only for the purple dragon to leap out of the way; however, she was soon on him again and before he could react, a set of bony claws suddenly pressed through his shoulder, igniting painful screams. Spyro watched, horrified as his own blood turned the water beneath his feet a swirly crimson. The dragon pulled her claws out again and aimed it over his chest. Spyro's eyes widened and without thinking he opened his maw, spewing out a stream of hot fire that consumed the entity before him, the mocking screams turning into shrill screeches. The fire died down, revealing nothing but smoke

. Spyro panted but snapped himself back alert as another shadow emerged from it. A head appeared and Spyro sighed when he looked into Sparx's eyes. "Sparx? What how are you?" He stopped as the head drew closer, revealing that it was held in place by an arm, blood dripping where it had been severed. The body came next, the same mutilated way as Spyro had remembered from that fateful day many years ago. To his shock the head spoke. "Why Spyro? Why did you let me die?" It drew closer.

"Stop! Get back!" Spyro cried, unable to bear the sight again. The body walked closer, one paw still holding the head.

"Stay… Stay back! Please Sparx." The purple dragon was on the verge of tears.

"Don't make me…" The head twisted into a grin.

"Let me touch you Spyro, let me lead you home with me." A paw firmly grabbed his shoulder, causing the purple dragon to blindly whip out his claws, grimacing as he felt them rip through scales. He looked up to see a deep set of gouges in Sparx's chest.

"I'm sorry." He looked despairingly at Sparx yet the yellow dragon just stood there, staring at him before it melted into a pool of red liquid. Spyro panted and fell against the ground, suppressing the whimpering that threatened to exit his throat. A sick splashing sound caused him to blearily turn back to the blood. A figure slowly molded itself out of the liquid, stretching out red splattered wings. Spyro shut his eyes as a set of claws clicked against the ground, coming towards him. A warm paw rested against his chest and he opened his eyes slightly, to be greeted with familiar green ones.

"Cyn…Cynder?" The purple dragon stuttered out.

"Yes Spyro, it's me?" He scrambled to his feet.

"What? Why are you here?" She gazed at him solemnly.

"Please, help me Spyro."

"Help you?" The black dragoness suddenly fell to the floor.

"Make it stop Spyro! Please, make it stop!" As Spyro watched tendrils of shadow tricked out of her body and she grew to a monstrous size, becoming a evil serpent with shredded wings. She looked back at him, whatever trace of humanity gone from her eyes.

"This is what you've made me into Spyro." The purple dragon shook but this time he stood his ground.

"Who are you?" "My name is Cynder, or did you forget about me too?" The black dragon hissed, the slit like eyes staring at him.

"No…" It glared at him.

"No?" The purple dragon glared back at her, his violet eyes meeting her green ones.

"No, you are not Cynder." Before the black dragoness could react he leapt forward and brought his claws savagely down against her neck. "Stop it!" He howled in rage, his consciousness too far gone to feel anything but anger. The black dragoness bellowed and opened her maw, spewing a long stream of acid in his direction. Spyro rolled out of the way and rushed passed her, making sure to drag his tail black hard against her shoulder. The dragoness roared and spun to face him, only to be blinded by a savage stream of fire. Spyro shot over her and curled into a ball, spinning and bringing his tail blade down like an axe over her forehead- only to pass right through as the entity completely vanished in a puff of smoke. Spyro crumpled into the ground, dazed. He opened his eyes again, breathing hard and looking around, spotting nothing out of the ordinary, no blood, just the serene cave. He felt his shoulder, gasping as he felt no pain or injury.

"What?" His attention switched to a new set of torches lit up, revealing a hidden door and Spyro cautiously opened it, becoming enveloped by the bright light.

When he could see again, he was in the middle of a vast library with a huge hourglass in the very middle. A gray dragon much older than him was looking back at him. Spyro leapt to his feet, bristling in anger.

"What was that?" The chronicler just looked at him patiently.

"Sit down young dragon, we have much to discuss and rest assured I will have an answer for your questions. Spyro growled but grudgingly sat back down on his haunches. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to flush out the memories of the experience. The other dragon let out a huff.

"I do apologize young dragon, but you see, every dragon who comes through the gates of the white isles must be worthy and as such, they are tested." Spyro glanced up.

"A test… A bloody test…"

"Yes young dragon, a test. One that unearths their greatest fear, where only the worthy can overcome."

"And what if failed huh, what would have happened then?" The chronicler shrugged

"You would have probably sunk into the lake, which in reality is just a hot spring above the ocean, which runs deep underneath this island. Your body would have been swept out to sea by the current." He cracked a smile. "But you mustn't dwell on it young dragon, I have seen the future and even before you left Nova I knew this day was coming. Spyro glared at him but knew that whatever he said really didn't matter at this point so he resigned to just sitting back on his haunches and trying his best to erase the flashing memories of what he just experienced. The chronicler waited for him to relax before resuming speaking.

"You do realize why you are here right?" Spyro nodded.

"To train me to be able to defeat the dark master right?" The grey dragon shook his head.

"If only it were that simple. Malefor himself is just another dragon-albeit one able to wield all elements. He however is still bound to the laws of nature that apply to all living things. He is not immortal, nor is he all powerful; however, the dark essence that infects him is not natural- it was here since the first ancestors, the balance that served to counter light, a job that I believe is has done too perfectly." He stared hard at Spyro.

"Young dragon, it will be completely worthless if you defeat the dark master and his armies only to fall prey to the darkness and so that is partially why the ancestors sent you here. To train with me and to also learn to repel the temptation that will no doubt try to pull you in. I can see the future but there are many that can happen based on what choices you make; some bad some good, it will all rest upon your shoulders. I will try my best to guide you to make the right ones but know that when the time comes for you to choose, it will all be upon you." Spyro listened as the dragon finished before nodding, taking in what had just been revealed to him.

"Alright then Chronicler, teach me." The older dragon gave a nod of satisfaction.

"I admire your concision, I see a very active mind within you, all the better be warned, these trials will not be easy and you will find yourself overwhelmed many times."

Spyro shook his head. "I will not allow for what happened to all of my friends and family to be in vain."

The chronicler nodded solemnly. "Then prepare yourself."

Whips of magic emanated around him and suddenly they were on a platform high above the ocean. The sky danced with the colors of the elements and Spyro suddenly felt his energy return. He rolled his neck, feeling his sore muscles heal. His power felt stronger than ever. He felt alive.

(All I have for now, please read and review. I gladly consider points of improvement or general ideas on how to change the writing.)


	8. The Dark Master's Puppet

The water around him was unnaturally dark, his vision only permeating through a few meters in front of him. The chronicler had told him that there were chemicals in the water of the white isles which seem to alter even the most pedestrian aspects of nature here, be it the pearly white rocks, the dark blue water, or the currents in both the sea and the sky that circumvented the isles, isolating it as a placid island amidst whatever storms brewed over the sea. The isles was never affected by storms, whatever magical properties bestowed upon the sacred place more powerful than the sea itself. Spyro's head snapped to a slither of movement to his right. Something was spectating him, circling his body just beyond his vision. He tensed himself.

A pair of glowing eyes penetrated through the water as the creature stopped and watched him from a standstill, following the dragon's every movement underwater. Spyro could feel its presence with the electric field he had cast around him… in fact he could feel the presence of not just one…Another pair of eyes joined the first, then another and another, and another. Now there was a swarm of glowing eyes around him. They moved rapidly, swirling and shaking, almost taunting him outside his view, their hisses muffled but still very much noticeable in the water. Spyro stayed still and as a calm as possible; he was running low on oxygen. The mass around him drew closer and for the first time Spyro could see the slithering, eel-like bodies that lead to a sharp face sporting a snout of serrated teeth. A pair of piercing eyes lay implanted above, eyeing him as the movements grew more and more feverish at the prospect of devouring dragon flesh. One daring one separated and snapped at his tail, which he flicked out of the way but where one went more followed. The hissing grew louder as they were right beyond his wingtips, lunging to get a piece of him whenever an opportunity arose.

Spyro cracked a smile, he was waiting for this. The hissing was suddenly replaced with a low droning sound and the water seemed to become alive. He could feel the power course through his body, begging to be released, a demand that he granted as pulses of electricity rippled in and arch around him and for a moment the water was filled with glowing bodies infested by the surge. The hissing became crackling and the water churned with fury, tossing the drake off his balance. He flapped his wings and pushed through the water towards the dim light of the surface, his head breaking the waves he created with just a few seconds of air left in his now burning lungs. He gasped and pulled himself out of the water, rolling onto his back as breathing heavily to refill his blood with welcoming oxygen. An older dragon stepped into his field of view.

"Well done young dragon, you are truly mastering your electricity element well."

Beside him multiple bodies floated to the surface of the lake for a moment before the current carried them back down again, drifting them out to sea via the subterranean channel underneath the isles. Spyro got up and shook himself free of the water.

"Thank you chronicler, but I still have much to work on for my furies."

He nodded. "Yes, furies are the hardest and most dangerous part of training. You have at least a strong grasp for it already however, which is a feat accomplished normally by only dragons with tens of years of experience with their elements. Your power has already surpassed those of the majority of dragons."

"Thank you chronicler, with my electricity the last element I need to master, it will be soon that I may return to the realms."

The gray dragon nodded before beckoning for him with his tail. "Yes, your presence is direly necessary should the empire ever hope to stand a chance against the Legionnes, and now with rumors of the Hand of the Dark Master destroying entire companies the light is waning. Port Silversail is on the verge of collapse again to the north and Orbiis has already been retaken by a division of Talons. The guardians are hard pressed in training future officers at the temple of Starbreach but they can only do so much in providing. Volunteers from all three cities and the scattered dragon settlements are declining while other races such as the Wyverns and Gryphons have more or less decided that they want nothing with the "dragon's war" and though there are still a significant number fighting, their lack of elements set pose fundamental issues when using tactics honed for dragons." The old dragon looked away.

"For now Spyro, worry about concocting a course of action for yourself once you reach the mainland. I will arrange for the leviathan to send bring you as close to Starbreach as possible, from then on you will be left to your own devices and I will chronicle whatever follows as I have been for the past century and the ten before."

He turned and sauntered away while Spyro opened his wings and took off down the caverns in the opposite direction. He navigated through the stone passageways before reaching his own room near the top of the isles, a plain looking cave, just one of many dotting the pristine sandstone rock. Inside lay a simple setup of a table, bookshelf, bed, and in the corner a pool of enchanted water. Spyro looked into it as the surface rippled and formed an image of Volteer, training a class in using crossbows and muskets. The image closed after a few seconds and Spyro changed the subject of his search to the other guardians. Terrador and Ignitus were unreachable and he feared the worst for them; meanwhile, Cyril was still in Port Silversail, defending with his remaining soldiers against the legionaries assaulting. The waves rippled again and Spyro found himself staring at his own reflection. He stared at the placid water for a moment, small tendrils alarm threatened his thoughts when again he failed to detect Cynder, or rather when something threw his mental eye away before any image could permeate through the surface of the vision pool. She was alive, that much he knew, but past that… he shuddered at the possibilities. It was unlikely he would see her again, the chance encounters before having been complete coincidences of being at the right place at the right time but if by some stroke of luck he did he knew that he owed her a long apology. Outside the sky faded to a luminous orange, the final streaks of lavender that had painted it minutes before now drained through the horizon.

With one final stretch he leapt onto the soft cushions of his bowl shaped bed allowed sleep to consume him.

Fire. Everything was on fire. The blaze ate away at his skin, making scream in silent pain as the crackling of the blaze drowned out everything, consumed everything that it touched. He was back at the forge. He was at the forge as around him walls of violet and black fire ate around him but he was not alone. Sparx was there, the yellow dragon's face almost unidentifiable as the heat at away at it as well, not even the powerful scales of a dragon able to withstand the immense temperatures. Beside him as Hunter, the old Cheetah's fur scorched black and beside him Akyla was in no better condition, her fiery scales glowing an unnatural coloration. They were all there, staring at him, staring yet not speaking as the building fell apart around them. Spyro's eyes watered as they dried almost immediately but he couldn't move; instead he was forced to stare back at his former friend, mentor…brother as they were eaten alive. Beyond the tongues of demented fire he could see the sky… and another set of glowing yellow eyes staring at him. Malefor's cackling drowned out even the loudest smashes of the collapsing building and as Spyro stood transfixed at him by fear alone another figure joined him, this one just a shadow that seemed to emerge from the night itself. Spyro snapped out of trauma as pain shot through his body, the fiery, stinging pain.

He was awake. Spyro shot up from the covers and stared at himself in the mirror, examine himself for the sure signs of scorched scales only to be greeted by none, his royal purple remained unadulterated. Taking a deep breath to calm his mind, he lay back down, trying to erase the vivid flashes that shot through his consciousness. A breeze floated by.

"Young dragon, are you alright?" The Chronicler's voice permeated through whatever magical essence the wind ferried.

"Fine Chronicler, it was just the dream again."

"Again, the same one?" Spyro nodded before realizing that he could not be seen.

"Yes, same one." There was a pause.

"This doesn't bode well, I sensed a great disturbance through the night. Come to the library." The breeze faded, leaving the purple dragon to sigh and get up, stretching as he peered outside at the barely risen sun. He flapped once before lifting off, diving into the caverns and weaving through towards his destination. The grey dragon stood awaiting him and faced him when he landed.

"I was hoping that this wouldn't happen again, especially not when you are almost leaving."

Spyro nodded but chose to remain silent, allowing the older dragon to continue.

"Spyro, when the ancestors created dragon kind they forged the society to be perfect, to be inhabitants of paradise. Yet however, where there is light there will always be darkness, lingering just beyond the perception of the mind. With great power also comes the draw of the darkness, the same darkness that Malefor chose to embrace. Unlike what the ancestors envisioned we could not inhabit paradise for we are all fundamentally flawed but some, some more so than others. Those who cannot quell the turmoil within them are prone to be susceptible to the influence and all I can say Spyro is that you must remain steadfast else the only thing that will separate you from the Dark Master is name alone. Go get some items for your journey back Spyro, I create something for you that I hope will offer respite to your sub-consciousness when you need it." He turned and exited the library and Spyro sighed, hoping that whatever potion the Chronicler conjured up could prevent the horrific sight from ever occurring again… and yet he was somewhat hesitant. These dreams-though gruesome- also served as constant reminders of his failures, the people he had lost. He felt that if he ignored them then they would have meant nothing to him. They served as his motivation, to push him from ever letting another dragon down again. It was ironic he knew and if he was given a choice he would not know what to decide.

Shaking his head he began walking, seeking to gather crystals and food for his journey. The Chronicler had taught him well in the elements, Fire, Ice, Earth, Electricity, and the elusive element of time. Now though, it was his duty to use his abilities to stop the Dark Master. He personally had no qualms with the Legionnes. Any King must have men at arms. He would rather not kill them but in a war, it was inevitable that blood will flow through his paws. He shivered at this thought, hoping to postpone it as long as possible.

Like a rising mountain the giant leviathan broke through the surface of the water, having been summoned by the Chronicler's command. Spyro tucked his satchel a bit closer to himself and straightened his cloak before stepping on.

"The journey will take around three days to complete." The Chronicler spoke as he boarded. He handed him a few herbs. "These will put you to sleep for the time. When you awake you will be near Port Silversail. Help the defenders and remember, if you see the Dark Master, do not take him head on, you are not ready yet. I will be watching and chronicling, as I have for the past millennia and longer, from the dawn of this age until the end. I bid you farewell Spyro the Dragon, it has been my honor to train you and it is an honor to chronicle your life. Centuries from now when you are old and your life leaves you we will meet one last time whereupon I shall show you your book before you pass on. Until the however, farewell."

Spyro cast him one glance before smiling and bowing. "It has been my honor to have served under you Chronicler. I will miss you and I await the day of our reunion."

The old dragon chuckled at this. "Let us both hope that that is centuries from now, now go, go and bring the end of this Second Age."

The Leviathan slowly turned and with a powerful push shoved into the open ocean, leaving Spyro to cast one last glace at the old dragon before both him and the White Isles disappeared into thin air. Spyro tasted the salty sea breeze as a pang of sorrow rang through him. His home for the last three years now lay behind him and when he woke up he would be celebrating his 24th hatch day. The events of the last seven years flashed through him, from the chance meeting with a certain legionary, to the burning of the forge, to fighting for the Lightnings, to training with the Guardians, and then with the Chronicler himself. It felt yesterday that he had just cried over Sparx, when he left Nova Lumia for good… the Nostalgia clouded his memories. Shaking his head, he returned his gaze back to the herbs before placing them in his mouth, chewing and letting the numbing feeling spread through his body.

When he woke up again the stomach churning rolling of the sea was replaced by the soft laps of water against his scales. He was on a rocky beach overlooked by high concrete sea walls. A harbor lay in the distance, the wooden and iron ships that had once signified the pinnacle of Empirical might now lay scattered, some smoking, some with just their masts or smokestacks peaking over the water. Spyro coughed and shakily stood up, adjusting to the three day sleep. He still felt strangely tired, and hungry, both of which he fixed by absorbing a red crystal and wolfing down some dried meat he had packed for the occasion. As he marveled at the broken spires and crumbled towers it struck him just how silent it was; however, in the distance, three pillars of smoke rose into the sky, signifying an ongoing battle. Spyro shook his wings dry and took off. He needed to find Cyril. As he flied low over the city, he marveled as closer and closer he got to the outer walls, the buildings grew more and more dilapidated. Old towers which have stood all tests of time the previous centuries had incurred now lay crumpled, ruin beyond hope of repair after suffering from massive catapult impacts. It struck him how devoid of life the once prosperous city is now, all residents who survived the initial siege having fled far above the ocean, taking whatever ship or to their wings for dragons before embarking on an exodus far south to Starsbreach or Nova Lumia before it briefly fell. The crumbling city sent chills up his spine, the silence settling as too unnatural and out of place. He had been here once before, once with his mother and father while they were still alive. Though he was only a whelp then brief flashes of memory still flashes through his mind, trying to restore the landscape to what he once remembered. This endeavor proved unsuccessful however and he resigned himself to simply taking in the surreal atmosphere around him. Before he knew it the sound of battle had reached his years and he could see that along with a fierce ground battle, high above the clouds, dragons of both sides were in in a heated exchange of tooth claw and elements. Dragons of both sides clashed and dropped, their bodies falling out of the sky towards their final resting places. Spyro's eyes snapped towards moving directly in front of him and quickly rolled as a ballista bolt whipped past him. Realizing that he was now ell within range of both side's aerial weapons Spyro closed his wings, letting himself plummet before flaring at the last moment and touching down softly. From the looming walls of the city a hundred meters ahead a squad of armed imperial dragons lifted off to meet him, dropping down below the walls to avoid being hit by accurately manned cannons and ballistae. They quickly landed and surrounded Spyro though they froze when they caught sight of the vibrant purple of his scales. Before they could say anything Spyro addressed them first.

"I must see Cyril, I have important news for him." The dragons looked between them, casting unsure glances but their commander gave an affirming nod.

"Let him through, I recognize him, welcome back Spyro." The purple dragon cast a surprised look at the armored electric dragon. "Farro, is that you behind the grime?" The dragon staring back at him smiled faintly. "Yeah, still alive, though perhaps not for long at this rate. Follow me, the guardians have been awaiting your return."

As they rushed across the top of the wall the baristas and cannon shots that blasted over their heads forced them to duck constantly to prevent their heads from being severed off. Spyro noticed with disgust how although the stone now sported thick puddles of blood. More than once, a defender would slip and curse as a comrade's blood threw off a shot or worse, threw them briefly into sight of legionnaire snipers. As unwieldy and loud as these new rifles were, the accuracy they had over the crossbows was frightening. The dragons leapt off as the gate came in sight and glided down to a hastily built structure where officers rushed in and out of at a constant basis. Without hesitation Farro shoved the door open, nearly smashing another dragon in the face. He gave him a sheepish look but any apologies died in his throat as Cyril shot up when Spyro followed Farro in.

"Spyro, you're back!" The ice dragon cast him a strange look. "Why are you here in Port Silversail?"

"I saw the defenses faltering and decided to stop here first before returning to Starbreach. Where are Terrador and Ignitus?"

The ice dragon shook his head. "No one knows for certain but they had headed to Warfang to bolster defense and inspect the troops. Afterwards Ignitus planned to lead a portion of the army to retake the Valley of Avalr while Terrador traveled to Orbiis shortly before it was overrun by legionnaires. Neither have been heard from since though their soldiers-or the survivors rather- have returned to Warfang. I fear the worst for them as the soldiers who escaped reported seeing a… creature if you will. A dragon dark as night itself with power far beyond any could imagine. Our ballistae and bullets go through it like nothing and swords and spears are useless. With such power, I fear the worst should it choose to attack again. To be able to take down two guardians in a span of six months is no easy task."

A loud explosion somewhere above them sent dust raining over their heads. Cyril shook his head sadly and ignored the interruption.

"However, now that you're here, at least we have a chance of breaking through the Legionnaire offensive, if Port Silversail holds, then the north stands a chance of liberation." Spyro nodded.

"What can I do?" Cyril looked at the maps sitting on his desk before turning to his generals.

"What abilities can you wield as of now Spyro?"

"The four natural elements and time." The guardian's ears perked at this.

"Time? How can you control time?" His head snapped to the right as the purple dragon suddenly appeared there.

"I can slow time down, it allows for me to travel very quickly but I can only sustain the magic for maybe a minute." Cyril nodded at this.

"A few minutes may be all we need. If you're fast enough, you can potentially traverse their entire encampment before they even realize your presence." His claw hovered over a point on his map.

"Their gunpowder caches, heavily guarded and in the very middle of their camp. Air guards, and sentries are all heavily armed. Gather the remaining lightnings and arm them with the normal attire, tell them to meet me here, I have a plan that if successful, can break the siege."

"Farro, get Spyro outfitted with any captured armor available. As I do recall, you told me that you spend the Warfang Campaign as a lightning did you not?" The purple dragon gave a brief nod of his head

"Good, you will need that experience, go with Farro, tonight, we shall see what you can accomplish."

As night fell the siege that had persisted throughout the day gradually fell silent, both sides retreating to defensive positions to prevent infiltrations. Outside the city walls the Legionne camp was surrounded with a ring of bonfires, illuminating everything fifty yards ahead of them. The two guards at the east gate stood on high alert with crossbow held tight against his side. He watched as moths danced around the fire in front of him and took a deep breath, blinking the fatigue out of his eyes. In his peripheral vision a sudden movement in the pushes caused him to snap his eyes towards the distance just as a bolt whistled at his head. Out of sheer instinct the guard ducked, causing the steel to glance off the top of his helmet, failing to penetrate the armor. A few meters to his left the griffon standing guard with him wasn't that lucky, the bolt having penetrated the thin neck guard. Without hesitation the dragon yelled at the top of his voice.

"Alarm!" As he returned fire with his crossbow, a score of Lightnings with raised shields pushed towards the gates.

"Are you ready Spyro?"

"As I'll ever be Captain Cyfer, good luck."

"Aye, you as well, let us hope our first mission together in three years isn't our last." The purple drake nodded and disappeared from view.

That night would prove to be the costliest night for the lightnings. As they pushed through fearlessly against the waves of Legionnaries, encircling around the bodies of their fallen comrades and lashing out with steel and magic against overwhelming numbers one by one they were picked off. Cyfer wielded his sword and shield expertly against shiny black and silver armor as he hoped that Spyro would get close enough to plant the explosives but even his strikes grew clumsy as twenty was reduced to ten. Beside him, a mortally wounded fire dragoness unleashed an inferno with the last of her energy, throwing the attackers in front of her away in a ball of deadly fire. The head bit at his scales and the immense sound nearly through him off. A lance glanced against his helmet and he was thrown off balance before another lance shoved against his side, pressing through the armor and pinning him against the ground. The last three survivors formed a defense around their fallen captain as the Legionnaries prepared to overrun the last of the lightnings. As Cyfer bobbed in and out of consciousness he witnessed nearby an inferno of white fire erupt from the center of the camp, throwing all of the soldiers into a frenzy as shrapnel rained down over their backs. His soldiers raised their shields as pieces of metal and wood rained down over them, stalling the Legionnaries for a moment as they pulled him away from the battle. As confusion spread, they retreated back into the darkness and Cyfer smiled as he bore witness to the mass of Imperial soldiers descend from the walls, falling upon the disorganized legionnaires before he let rest consume him.

When the first alarms rang out through the camp Spyro had just gotten into position, hiding in the shadows beyond the reach of the torches. In an instant the camp was alive with Legionnaries, some with partial or no armor rushing around to positions. With this chaos erupting, he easily slid into dragon time and managed to get within the walls of the fort, traversing through the gate right under the gazes of the sentries. By the time it wore off he was well within the camp, his stolen legionary armor blending win with the mass of black and silver metal swirling around him. By the time he recovered enough energy to use dragon time again the majority of soldiers had already swarmed outside and he realized that the lightnings who were causing the diversion didn't have long. As he summoned forth his magic and pushed through the tent supplying all cannonballs, musket rounds, and the necessary gunpowder he slid from his satchel a bundle of carefully wrapped explosives. He unwound the long fuse before imbedding it into the mounds of gunpowder and ignited it. Immediately the fuse began to burn though Spyro could see every single spark that danced from the small flame. Making sure that it was properly placed, the purple dragon turned and dashed towards the exit of the camp, his magic wearing off again just as he passed the sentry, whose attention towards the skirmish on the other side of camp was broken as a dragon materialized seemingly from thin air below him. Immediately the dragon reached for his crossbow but by the time he slid the bolt into place the imposter was long gone.

"Will he be alright?" The purple dragon stood impatiently by the door of the makeshift hospice where the wounded of the battle two days ago were being treated. All in all there were some eighty wounded dragons, griffons, cheetahs, and moles. Besides the building in a neat row of makeshift tombs was around half that number. Forty holes with forty stone headpieces were embedded into the ground, signifying the dead. While the cost in life wasn't high, the loss of four times as many legionaries to the lesser trained and equipped imperial troops did more than just damage morale for the enemy. Facing the encirclement of his troops, the general had gathered what remained of the northern Legionnes and withdrew back south, abandoning their camp in the dead of night. Spyro perked his head as a round of coughing caught his attention.

"Captain Cyfer, are you alright?" The fore dragon weakly turned to the him and gave a shaky thumbs up.

"The healer told me that there was a shard of steel still in my lung but apart from that I feel fine. A shame really that the Legionnaries already left, I would have pursued them all the way to the tall plains if I had it my way."

Spyro smiled slightly at this comment. "Soon, Captain, but not yet. We may have won this battle but we have lost too many dragons doing it. More of our elite guards are felling than we can replenish and the guardians can only train so many skilled element wielders."

Cyfer laid his head back down against the cushions and stared for a moment at the ceiling. "Ay, too many were lost that day, but we have prevailed. Port Silversail stands under Imperial control and with it Warfang and the cities on the Luminous Peninsula can again receive trade from the Artisans." He looked back at Spyro.

"For someone your age, you have a surprising knowledge on strategy and fighting. Akyla did well in choosing a new member for our ranks. She would be proud." Spyro dipped his head slightly. "Thank you sir, I will leave you to rest." The captain nodded and turned to sink back into a light sleep as the purple dragon walked away.

Spyro pushed through the wooden door and began heading towards the officer chambers. For once, the morning sounds were unadulterated of explosions and musket shots but instead was filled with light chatter and spontaneous clanging of swords. He stopped in his tracks and instead lifted off, angling himself towards the top of the walls. Landing on a rampart, Spyro caste a long glance at the city around him. A good portion of old buildings were destroyed, their structures now just heaps of wood and stone rubble. Smoke billowed out in the horizon and drifted over the ocean where the sunken masts of ships unfortunate enough to be caught in the battle resided, either permanently or until someone had enough time and fortune to raise and repair them. Somewhere along the wall a cry of alarm rang out, causing Spyro to turn his head. Two hundred meters away, a flurry of guards were amassing and setting up the cannons with grapeshot. In confusion Spyro pumped his wings towards the commotion intent on finding out the cause of such racket. As he drew nearer he noticed what appeared to be a cloud of black specks clearing the clouds from the direction of the sun. Dragons?

"Fire!" The roar of two dragon-headed cannons delivering their deadly packages caused his ear to ring and temporarily disorientate him. He landed clumsily onto the ramparts just as two other guards came to meet him.

"Master Spyro, a wave of grublins are diving in from the direction of the sun!" Spyro stared at them blankly for a split second before the images of the grotesque flying creatures registered in his mind.

"The cannons!"

"Already manned!"

"Don't let them get any closer."

The two guards nodded and hurriedly lead him to the firing cannons. A mole stood there organizing the barrages. As he approached the mole turned his goggled towards him and adjusted the lenses.

"Spyro, good to see you here lad. Those pesky grublins thought they could sneak past our defenses. He gestured to the now empty sky. Well, we won't be worrying about them anymore."

"Good job Mason, where are the guards though? I thought we had a patrol up there on watch?"

The mole stroked his finely curled and looked thoughtfully towards the dense clouds that conveyed the heavy rains rolling in from the sea.

"I haven't a clue mate, though they probably are slacking and forgot to take shift."

Spyro nodded but couldn't help but shiver from an underlying sense of unease. "Mason, send some troops up there to stand guard. Tell them to also check for any remaining grublins. These things are spawns of the dark arts and they need a leader in order to launch any tactical operation."

The mole nodded and gestured for a nearby officer. The armored dragoness walked over and lowered her head to see eye to eye with the mole as he started speaking. Spyro looked on over the grassland that eventually grew into dense woods a few hundred meters out. There were no movement in that direction, which was no surprise… Beside him Mason suddenly stopped talking, causing the other dragon to look up in confusion.

"General, is there an issue?" She questioned but received no response as the mole's sensitive ears perked skywards.

"Do you hear that miss?" The mole's question caught the dragoness by surprise.

"Hear what?" She looked in the direction of the clouds and squinted, but failed to see anything.

"Sir, there is nothing-"She stopped and looked on in confusion as a single low howl reverberated through the air.

"What the…" She turned to Mason. "Did we send any patrols?" The mole shook his head before his ears perked up again.

"There it is! It sounds like… droning?" He looked up again in confusion before adjusting his lenses again.

"Man the cannons!" The dragoness yelled out before turning again to Mason. "I am going to fetch reinforcements." Above them the sun disappeared behind clouds. The dragoness turned before freezing as her own ears finally registered a low, droning sound. She looked up again and stared hard against the clouds, which were gradually rolling over them. The bottom of the cloud seemed to dance around, little wisps of vapor swirling unnaturally underneath. Her eyes widened.

"Mason! In the clouds, all cannons, fire salvo into the storm front!" Her words were met with confusion but the guards hastily angled their cannons to almost vertical and fired. The deafening boom of grapeshot was followed a moment later by the sight of a dozen small grotesque bodies falling from their cover. Immediately, a swarm of dark green fell through the clouds, so dense that they cast a massive shadow over the walls as the grublins dove downwards. The droning suddenly magnified tenfold as rapid order flew from both Mason's and the dragon officer's mouth and the cannons roared into the sky, spitting out iron. For each grublins that fell, two more seemed to materialize and though before they even reached the wall a hundred bodies littered the ground, there were still ten times as many still able to fight. Spyro joined the guards at the wall as the swarm approached. Behind, the dragoness had rallied almost the entire active garrison of a thousand dragons to meet this new threat.

Spyro felt his unease quell slightly. With an almost equal amount of dragon, there was no hope for the grublins. "What were they thinking?"

The battle began as a wave of elements engulfed the grublins vanguard, incinerating, freeing, frying, and/ or crushing dozens. Then the two sides collided as Dragon switched to claws, savagely gouging any that came close… and yet the grublins kept flying, seemingly not paying attention to their fallen brethren as the half who emerged from the dragon defense flew on as the stunned guards hastily pursued before they suddenly stopped above the camp and rolled into little balls as an uncommon source of magic emerged from their hides and plummeted.

Spyro stunned at the horrific noises, as screams were drowned out by exploding infernos as the masses burst into flames upon impact, the magic that filled them now serving their purpose. Thus this was the fate the dark master instilled upon the lowest ranks of his troops. The weak grublins were near useless in combat but with their numbers, a swarm could be extremely efficient. Spyro narrowed his eyes past the colliding bodies towards the massive clouds rolling in above the city. The sun was abruptly blotched out of vision and for a moment Spyro saw the slightest of movement. With a massive flap of his wings, he propelled himself skywards; after all, wherever there were grublins, there had to be something controlling them, feeding them the will of the dark master.

Collisions faded under him as he broke into the storm cloud, the icy chill stinging his eyes and as he watched, arcs of electricity danced in front of him. Around him a sea of gray swirled with each beat of his wing as he stopped and hovered, letting his electricity expand through the arcs of lightning, searching for an entity hidden there with him. Almost immediately he sensed an anomaly still higher above him and he angled his wings towards the direction his senses pointed to him. As he ascended the air grew thinner and thinner, almost to the point where breathing was made a difficulty.

"How much longer…" He gasped but still kept his wings active, something wasn't right, the altitude was way too high for anything to stay for prolonged periods. The pulses grew stronger when suddenly the clouds fell away with only trails of moisture still clinging to his wings as he rose beyond the highest layer and immediately he froze. Staring at him was a monstrous black and red dragon. Its mouth was wide open, displaying rows of unnaturally sharp teeth, the claws like sabers protruding from its paws. The creature seemed to emit a constant fog of dark magic from its scales.

With a monstrous roar the dragon's open mouth shot towards him, blasting a tornado of swirling winds that just missed him as he dove out of the way. The wind was followed by another stream of red. Even from his position far beyond the dragon's physical reach, he could still feel the immense power generated from the blast as two red rings screamed past over him. He had made a mistake. Spyro dove down back towards the clouds, frantic to escape this mew adversary. TO his horror enormous wing beats trailed him and behind him his cover dispersed as the dragon pursued him. Even with all the years he spent training, drilling, he was still no match in terms of speed. He had to do something. The arcs of electricity that once again danced around him gave him an idea. As he danced blindly away from the closing dragon behind him he gathered as much electricity as his power reserves would allow him, feeling the jittery buzz of energy course through his veins. Another gust of wind suddenly hit him, throwing him into a dizzying spin while simultaneously pulling him towards the dragon's gaping maw. He felt claws come down over him and dig in deep into his wings, causing him to grunt and struggle against the pain. Two red eyes stared back at him momentarily before the dragon again craned its long neck and built up a ball of what looked to be purple fire. It was now or never. Spyro concentrated at the claws digging into his wings and condensed the energy within him before setting the entrapped electricity free. A shrill buzz cracked through the air as tendrils of lightning erupted into the dragon's arms before attracting the surrounding electricity as well. Spyro immediately felt himself relinquished from the painful grips and kicked backwards, his own muscles spasming slightly with excess electricity. Behind him he caught a gaze of the black dragon crumpled and screech in agony, its skins flashed for a second, revealing for a split second a writhing figure underneath silhouetted against the layers of dark energy before the clouds obscured his vision. Spyro shakily regained balanced and shot back up towards where he had released his magic, intent on finding out what it was exactly. Upon seeing nothing, he dove down, emerging underneath the clouds and above the city only to find nothing. His confusion was broken as a nearby flight of soldiers turned towards him.

"Hey, identify yourself!" Spyro saw the imperial emblems on their helmets.

"My name is Spyro, I'm with the garrison!"

"You're not wearing any armor." The leader watched him warily, ready to release his elements if necessary.

Spyro sighed and cast one last glance at the clouds before focusing at the new task. "Take me to master Cyril or Wall Commander Mason then, they can vouch for me." The patrol leader thought for a moment before nodding towards his soldiers.

"Guard him, we'll see if he speaks the truth."

"Sixty-two dead and a hundred or so more wounded." Cyril stared up dejectedly at the purple dragon.

It had been four hours since he arrived back and the final casualty list had been made known. Cyril had a grave look on his face as outside the frantic shouts of medics, firefighters, and workers alike blended together as they fervently attempted to repair the damages. The Ice guardian looked up again.

"You said something about the leader… are you sure about what you saw?"

"Entirely." Spyro affirmed.

The guardian once again turned his gaze to the papers on the desk, biting his scaly lip in thought. A minute later an idea seemed to spark in his mind. He called a nearby officer and turned to him.

"Gather what soldiers we can spare. We are heading back to Warfang for reinforcements. There I will go alone to Starbreach and confer with Volteer. Have the army prepared to leave when he arrives to take command." The officer nodded and brushed out of the tent.

"Spyro, I will have Volteer take my place. The temple's residents had had him for far too long and I worry that their training has lacked with only his selected expertise available. Would you like to stay with the army?"

Spyro thought for a moment before shaking his head. "sorry Cyril. I can't afford to waste that much time stationed at Warfang. I will leave tomorrow for Warfang before traveling to Orbiis to try to find Terrador or Ignitus. The Chronicler told me I have very little time to waste and an army will only slow me down."

The older dragon nodded. "If that is your decision then I can only bid you good luck." The purple drake bowed and turned towards the door when he felt a paw grip his back.

"Wait Spyro, if you are to risk going alone in such volatile times, at least have me prepare for you some armor and supplies. I cannot have you go without preparations." He turned to his desk and pulled out a quill pen, scribbling down some orders before handing a slip of paper to Spyro.

"Here, go to the armory and supply depot. Show them this paper. It has my name on it and you will be given what you need."

"Thank you master Cyril." Spyro dipped his head again. The older dragon smiled before letting him go. "Good luck Spyro, make sure you bid your old comrades farewell before you leave."

Spyro nodded and turned, grabbing his cloak and draping it over his back. He cast one last glance at Cyril, who had returned to pouring over papers. He turned back to the door and pushed his way out.


	9. Over the Castle Walls

Chapter 9: Over the Castle Walls

- Read and Review-

Fire erupted all around him. In Spyro's dreamscape he ran in panic as the inferno chases after him, with the crackling of fire also conveying horrid, dreadful screams of those being consumed by its wrath. As fast as he ran or flew it always seemed to gain on him until he stopped. The path in front of him suddenly dropped in an abyss of emptiness. Can he fly over? The end was nowhere in sight. Deciding the risk was worth it he leap anyways and the fire pursuing him fell away as he drew further from it. As he was about the sigh in relief a shrill, howling laughter permeated his ears and without warning he was tossed backwards against cold ground, staring up as two monstrous figures, a dragon and an ape, leered down at him. He shot to his feet only for the force to again return and hurtle him down, this time, two piercing eyes narrowed at him.

"I know you're there Spyro, and I will not stop until I have your heart in my claws…"

His eyes shot open abruptly and he leapt up to his paws, scanning the room around him. As scarring as his nightmares were, they failed to outweigh the sudden onset of pounding that throbbed in his head. With a moan he say back down and cradled his aching forehead again his paws, careful not to scratch the horns or fins on his head. He looked around, realizing that he hadn't a clue where he was. It wasn't his usual place in the barracks, no, he was in what seemed like a lounge, on a cushion… surrounded by a half dozen other dozing dragons. Empty bottles of rum and whiskey lay scattered everywhere, intact and in pieces. Brief flashes of the night before crossed his mind and he remembered the celebrations that followed soon after victory was declared in the city – or what's left of it. Nevertheless, the garrison stationed there was quick to send falcons to Warfang and Nova Lumina requesting the presence of engineers and builders to aid in the rebuilding of the structures that still remained standing after the siege and the final offensive. Spyro got up as a mole entered from a door behind the bar in front of him. Seeing he was awake the mole gave him a wave and gestured to the dragons and dragonesses sprawled out around him.

"See, I knew it was a good idea to stay with the troops, the business is bloody amazing lad!" The mole followed suit by holding up two bags of gold accumulated from the previous night alone. Spyro chuckled at his antics before heading out through the door. "Yeah, tell you what Riker, why don't you follow the column to Orbiis in a few weeks' time? I'm sure you'll see plenty of business there."

The mole shook his head. "Nay lad, I'm fine where I am. He pointed outside of the window towards the walls looming over the desolation. I need those, call it security. The mole looked back at him. "So I heard that you were going to proceed on your own to get there sooner?"

Spyro nodded. "Yeah, I can save some three weeks by doing this."

"Well then best of luck to you lad." The mole waved him goodbye as the purple dragon walked out the door.

_CYRIL_

The Guardian of Ice stood preparing a satchel for the purple dragon sipping cold water in front of him. As he packed in a bag of silver he cast a glance at him, slightly shaking his head at the pitiful condition.

"You know Spyro, I expected a higher level of maturity from you."

The purple dragon looked up. "Sorry master Cyril, it's been three years since I had a decent drink though and I think I took a bit too much."

Cyril nodded. "That you did, now here. He tossed him the satchel. It should be enough for you to get to Warfang and Orbiis without issue. I will mobilize the troops as soon as they're ready and fly them to Warfang. Hopefully, getting to Volteer won't be too much of an issue. Either way, you should see him in three weeks' time."

Spyro nodded and threw the satchel over his head, glaring in annoyance as the straps got temporarily stuck on the point of his horns.

"Alright, then I will be off now, see you soon Cyril."

The Ice guardian nodded as Spyro turned and pushed through the door. "Make sure you speak to that Captain and Farro before you go!"

Spyro gained altitude as the city grew smaller and smaller behind him. Neither Farro nor Captain Cyfer had been too happy to learn that he was proceeding on his own. Cyfer insisted on having a guard accompany him whereupon Farro offered to go with him but Spyro remained adamant on proceeding alone.

He closed his eyes as the sea breeze grew weaker and weaker. After all the fighting in the past week he could definitely take a leave into silence….

"Spyro!" A distant yet familiar voice called out from behind him, causing him to open his eyes again and turn to see an enlarging yellow speck clearing the city walls.

"Dear ancestors…"

"Spyro! Sorry mate, but Cyril's orders. I have received the new task of going with you to Warfang and Orbiis." Farro panted when he finally caught up. Unlike Spyro, who donned a simple yet finely woven cloak, he was dressed in light armor plates.

The purple dragon shrugged. In hindsight, it wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of claws helping him out. "Did you bring supplies?"

The yellow dragon nodded. "Yep, got it all here," He patted a satchel not unlike Spyro's.

"Good." The purple dragon nodded. "We're going to follow the Panrealm until we reach the sea of Warfang whereupon we refill supplies at Warfang and then re-trace the road until we reach Orbiis."

Farro nodded and gave his wings a stretch. "Sounds like a week's journey, shouldn't be hard."

Spyro agreed. "Yeah, now when we get to Orbiis though be on guard, it's not going to be some walk in the park."

"Noted, now let's go, the Dark Master isn't going to beat himself!" Farro took a huge flap and rocketed away with Spyro following soon after.

-Four Days Later, Outside Warfang-

To Spyro's immense shock when he returned to Warfang the battle seemed to have more or less concluded. The walls that once sat rows upon rows of Legionnaries now were occupied by full garrisons of Imperial troops. The city itself was still in the process of being rebuilt however but with the volatile status of the war, any repairs were built to be ephemeral in case a new siege fell upon the city should occur.

"A very real possibility…" Spyro mused to himself as he witnessed the limping forms of the survivors from Terrador's army. The dragons were sporting anywhere from simple cuts or scratches to broken limbs and concussions. None of them seemed to have suffered damage not unlike those given off by immense explosions.

"There was three thousands of them." Spyro heard Farro mutter as he gazed upon the sight.

"Now there is but a half of them, and only a few capable of fighting."

A forest green earth dragon caught sight of the two hovering dragons and flew up to greet them. "Hello Spyro, Farro, I am Commander Matar, Commander in place of Guardian Terrador. The falcon told me of your arrival. Situate yourself for the night." With a terse nod he turned and flew back to his troops, shoving his way into his tent and leaving the two bewildered dragons by themselves.

"Hey, are you two the guests?" A voice called out behind them, making them both turn to see a light gray wind earth dragoness flying up to them.

Farro looked at her. "Yeah, by chance do you know where we have to go? The commander wasn't exactly too specific on where are quarters are."

The dragoness nodded. "Yeah, follow me, they're very close by." She dove down and landed before proceeding to walk past the dozens of tents that served as temporary barracks for the garrison on top of the walls. She looked back to check in the two dragons before speaking again.

"Matar, my brother, is in quite a bit of turmoil right now. I fear that he may not be able to lead with a clear mind."

Farro cocked his head. "What? Why?"

"He doesn't talk much about the battle but what I do know is that he lost some pretty close friends. Don't worry about him though, if you guys need something, come to me, I'll be with the troops." She stopped by their tent and gave them a nod, gesturing for them to enter. They did and the dragoness retreated back outside.

"Aw nuts!" Farro abruptly exclaimed, causing Spyro to look up in confusion.

"She never told us her name!" Farro continued, causing Spyro to chuckle.

"Why would you be interested in that? We're only here for a day."

Farro looked down dejectedly. "Hey man, you never know…"

Spyro rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, get some rest now, you can think about other things after we've found Terrador and Ignitus.

The next day the two dragons bid Matar farewell and try as he might, Farro couldn't find any trace of the dragoness. Nevertheless, the two left with fresh supplies, enough to last them until the next city.

-Orbiis-

The road leading up to the city was now filled with Legionnaire roadblocks. As Spyro weaved through the dense woods around the path he realized just how great in numbers the army possessed and had stationed there.

"Hey Farro, how far are we from the city?" Spyro peered out of the shrubbery beside the main road and gazed upon another roadblock manned by armored, rifle wielding Legionnaries.

The electric dragon beside him peered at his map before answering. "One kilometer. He looked up at the patrolling soldiers. And this has been our third roadblock since. The Dark Master isn't too keen on loosing this city."

"Well it is the hub of all trade routes in the realm, whomever controls Orbiis can deploy troops anywhere within a matter of weeks." Spyro agreed.

Farro looked unsure. "I guess, but why have so many stationed outside the walls, should an army breach the roadblocks the wall garrisons will also in turn be weakened. He shook his head. Whatever, let's be quick, look for anywhere that can house a sizable number of prisoners."

As they approached the wall the activity around them grew more and more fervent, with patrols constantly flying in and out of sight and species who couldn't fly such as apes patrolled in scores around the wall' sides. The tree line ended at the circular moat that encompassed the city and in the horizon, the high towers of each of the city's five immense gates - each the beginning of a road reaching every corner of the realms- remained sealed tightly shut until the once in a while trader or merchant arrived and awaited entrance.

"How are we supposed to even enter?" Farro balked at the sheer number of patrols. Spyro squinted his eyes in thought, watching as another caravan came to a stop and requested entrance. The Legionnaries nearby halted and gave a quick check on the contents, making sure to check through the stacks of hay or dried grass that either were transported or served as cushions for items such as armor or armaments.

"I have an idea, but we're going to need a large cart to pass by. When one does, roll under it and latch on as tight as possible to the axel housing and hang on." A caravan being pulled by large houses thundered into view, the lead cart kicking up a cloud of dust, partially impairing vision.

"Follow me!" Spyro whispered before rolling under the cover of dust and under one of the carts, digging in with his claws against the soft wood. Farro followed suit soon after, narrowly missing a set of wheels, which came down inches from his head. He too latched on and held himself tightly against the cart bottom. As they grew closer to the gate the convoy came to an abrupt halt and both dragons could hear the clanking of legionnnarie armor for a brief moment before objects were tossed on top of them. A minute later they were through and as the gates closed, both dragons had disappeared into the city.

"Ancestors Farro, take off that bloody Imperial armor before you get us killed!" Spyro exclaimed to his companion, who quickly realized his mistake and slashed through the knots keeping the steel in place. Finding a nearby heap of garbage he quickly stuffed the armor underneath, grimacing in disgust as the putrid smell of rotting waste hit his nostrils.

"The Dark Master's not too keen on keeping the sanitation system running." He remarked.

Spyro shrugged. "That's assuming that the people who ran it are still alive."

Farro winced. "Damn, dark."

A squad of Legionnaries patrolled past them and Spyro waited as they rounded a corner of what used to be a bank before the toils of war broke down the mortar that composed its walls. In the bright daylight it was easy to see the rubble that cluttered the streets and the downtrodden conditions of the interiors of the building. However, with all the ruble hiding also was much more feasible.

"Come on, let's get inside before the next patrol arrives." Spyro whispered and flapped his wings, propelling himself quickly across the exposed street and into the bank. Farro followed closely and leapt over the wall and through an already broken window, rolling and landing on all fours while making little noise. Outside the sound of a steam engine rumbling down the street grew louder and Spyro peeked his head out, wary of any patrols. To his relief a single steam trolley drove down the road, bumping from the numerous potholes. In its carts lay a large pile covered by a tarp. Farro peaked out beside him as the cart lumbered past.

"Interesting, didn't think there would be much of a market remaining at such a volatile area." He commented. He said, tracing the cart with his eyes as it rounded the corner and out of sight from the boarded windows.

"There isn't, the only dragons here are those who couldn't afford to leave. Whatever it is that these guys have, it's for the uses of the Legionnes.

The cocking of a hammer caused both dragons to freeze and turn around to see a dragon peering at them through the rubble, a rifle hoisted against his arms.

"You two better have good reason for being here, else I wouldn't hesitate to paint the walls with you."

As Spyro discovered, the resistance was still very much active in the city. Lead by a former guard named Remas, the resistance operated deep within and throughout the city to undermine the power of the dark master. Luckily for the two of them, Farro was able to ease the suspicions of Remas and now the two were speaking with her regarding the whereabouts of the two missing guardians and the increase in numbers of Legionnaries in the city, a growing pain in the side for the resistance insurgent. Now the dragoness was pacing the cramped bunker in front of them in deep thought.

"Well, the issue with the dark armies became prevalent when they reactivated Castle Bastillon. During the war and throughout the passing time since its commissioning during the first age it has been used as a prison but I believe that never once has it been this heavily guarded."

"So can it be a prisoner?" Spyro inquired.

Remas stopped and looked at him. "Perhaps, but I think it's more likely that it's the Dark Master's new general, a dragoness turned grotesque by the Dark Master's experiments who wields elemental power unimaginable for the rest of us."

Spyro felt a shiver run down his spine. Could it have been this dragoness whom he encountered high above Silversail a few weeks ago?

Remas continued. "Poor soul, forced to act under the word of the Dark Master, Cynder, I do recall her name was. Who knows, perhaps she too is kept here so free will never arises as an issue."

The name Cynder caused him to blink. In his mind he remembered the black dragoness whom he had met all those years ago. It was she who first told him what corruption was… and it was she whom he feared became another victim to Malefor's deadly experiments.

"It's almost night time Remas continued speaking. Here, these are directions to the castle from our base. She handed them a rolled map. Do what you must but do not get that captured. My troops will be launching a raid tonight against the castle, overrun the guards, and end once and for all the terror that has beseeched us."

Outside the room the sound of clattering and yelling passed through the wall. A pair of guards passed, dragging a furiously struggling earth dragon.

"Fools, all of you! The dark master will have your souls, just as he took my brother's all those years ago!" The yelling grew quiet as they passed. Farro turned to Remas.

"So who was that?" He asked. Remas simply snorted before replying. "That there was Yury. He was a soldier when the war started, hella good one too but he was captured during the first battle for the city. Imprisoned in the Bastillon, went through Malefor's torture, and lost his brother, before escaping and returning to us as a madman. We would just let him go but at his mental state, we can't risk him giving our positions away."

"So you lock him up here? Farro raised an eyebrow.

"We have no choice." Remas replied. "We cannot have them jeopardize our efforts. She gestured towards the map. My soldiers still have a raid tonight, if you want to go see the castle the hurry."

She turned back to him. "Oh and one more thing, we have reports that the Dark Master's new weapon is being kept there. It should be in the arsenal. Should you choose to infiltrate the base, destroy it so that my soldiers will have one less issue to face later.

-Castle Bastillon, Midnight-

"Damn that castle." Farro commented, staring up at the immense structure towering over them. Under the moonlight, the glimmering armor of scores of armed Legionnaries constantly patrolled the walls and the surrounding area.

"According to Remas, Castle Bastillon was commissioned sometime during the mid-first age, soon after the first war of the apes broke out. It was used to imprison some ten thousand captured apes and their leaders." Spyro recalled from the earlier meeting with the local insurgency.

"Well whatever it is that these soldiers want to keep within those walls it's something of great importance." Farro looked at the purple dragon. "Come on, it's past midnight, if we're going to do something it's going to have to be now.

Spyro nodded. "Noted, we need to get ourselves some armor."

"No, it appears only seasoned Legionnaries are tasked with guarding the wall, there's no trainees with them. None of them have armor we can fit in." Farro stated.

Spyro squinted his eyes. They only had a few hours left of night to act. He shifted through his elements before reaching time. If he could sneak in the armory and steal some armor…"

"Farro, I need directions to the armory. I can sneak in and get armor. Change of plans, I will need you to be with the insurgents in case I need backup."

The electric dragon looked momentarily confused. "What? But what if you need help in there? It's not exactly the safest of places for you."

"No it certainly isn't. Spyro replied. However, I can get in there without being seen, at least for a while. If all things go as planned then I should be able to get in there and out within an hour." He placed a paw on Farro's shoulder. "I know Cyril gave you your orders but I need you out here more so than in there. He gestured at the looming walls. Come on, let's get back to Remas and see if we can get directions."

-Thirty minutes later at the insurgent safe house-

The earth dragoness stared unblinkingly at Spyro as he described his plan. When he finished she cast him a thoughtful glance before sitting up from her cushion and paced for a moment.

"It sounds feasible, I'll give you that, but I'm not sure where we can obtain the floorplan of that castle." She replied.

"Wait, what about Yury, the dragon who is rumored to have escaped from Castle Bastillon five months ago?"

Remas snorted. "Yury is batshit insane. If you can get two silvers of sense out of his blubbering mouth I will be surprised to no end."

"At least let me try with him, he's our only hope of infiltrating that castle."

"Your only hope, young dragon, my soldiers are ready to take it at a whim." She countered.

"If your soldiers even manage to take the first floor of that thing you will have a entire city of Legionnaries convene on you on all sides. It will be a massacre and we both know that." Spyro shot back. Remas looked as if she wanted to shred him under her claws for a moment but refrained.

"Fine Spyro, I will give you tonight to get Yury to help you. After that, my soldiers will attack the fort, destroy the ammunition and free the prisoners before we disappear into the woods."

"That would be suicide!" The purple dragon argued.

"No, it will not Spyro, you underestimate my soldiers and their iron will. We have every citizen in this city under our influence. If we lose one there will always be another to replace him or her."

With that she turned and brushed out of the room, leaving the two drakes. Spyro turned to his companion. "Damn it, Farro, I need you to make sure Remas doesn't cause the death of all her men. Stay with her and should she choose to attack before I'm back, return to Warfang and give all the information you know to Volteer when he gets there. Taking back Orbiis will be bloody but at least they can minimalize losses if you provide for them the right information."

"Alright, but make sure you don't die in there, we need the purple dragon for our cause and we can't afford another ten generations for a new one."

Spyro smiled. "Thanks, now if only Remas shared the same ideology."

- Yury's Cell-

The guard in front of the cell waved as Spyro approached before opening the cell, allowing the purpled dragon to enter. Spyro gave him a quick nod of thanks before entering and hearing the door close behind him. In front of him the teal colored dragon sat, his eyes shifting between the dragon in front of him and various positions in the room.

"Why hello there young dragon, did you finally come to accept my offer for tea?" He raised a cracked teapot and poured air into a cup before handing it to Spyro.

"Hey Yury." Spyro accepted the empty cup and pretended to drink, watching bemused as the dragon in front of him gaped at him drinking "boiling water"

"Young dragon, you're no fire dragon, you're just an overgrown purple lizard!" Spyro ignored this comment and instead continued with his original point.

"Hey Yury, I heard that you were once a prisoner at the Bastillon when Orbiis was controlled by the Dark Master for three years." Spyro forced himself to shift his gaze away from the old dragon's piercing gaze at the mentioning of his former imprisonment. The more he spoke to this dragon the more it seemed that there was no ascension from his pit of insanity beyond whimsical stories and incoherent memories.

"Look Yury, I know that you bore witness to the wicked experiments done by the dark master while he controlled this city and I know that you lost friends and family during those times. If you work with me we can prevent that from ever happening again. The Dark Master has retaken the city, that I know but if you can help me, we can take it back again. "

The dragon still made no indication that he had any thoughts or even heard the purple dragon. Instead he stood up and stared at the cell wall, as if some window had just appeared before him revealing the outside.

"Yury, I understand that this may be difficult. He stood and followed the older dragon only for the larger dragon to whip around a smash the teapot down hard against his forehead, throwing him against the ground, dazed.

"No, you have no idea." He snarled as he got up from his seat and approached the dazed dragon. Outside two guards rushed in the cell and talked the dragon to the ground. Spyro got up and shook his head, trying to ignore the ringing in his years that resulted from the impact.

"You know nothing Spyro. I saw the experiments first hand, I heard my brother's screams as if it was yesterday that the purple dragon, not unlike you, tore the last shreds of his humanity from him. I survived but he did not and I will always be plagued by my failure. Now young dragon, please, do pray tell that you understand." His voice had turned into a low hiss.

Spyro hesitated but approached him. The guards looked at him in surprise as he gestured that they exit but after some hesitation they released the dragon. "We will be watching, holler if there is any trouble." The lead guard spoke to Spyro as he exited. The purple dragon thanked him and waited until they exited before turning back to Yury.

"You're right, I don't understand. Who am I to say that? Yury looked at him stoically as he continued. But there was a time when I had a friend, a friend whom I haven't seen in many years, whom I allowed to be taken away by the dark master.

He met the older dragon's hard gaze with his own. "Yury, those dragons in there had families, loved ones as you had your brother. Please, don't let others suffer the same fate."

The dragon seemed to consider it momentarily before drawling out. "Why should I? I have already lost my brother, why would I wish to be considerate of others?"

Spyro found himself hard=pressed for a good reason. "Because… I learned that Malefor's generals will be there tonight. If you wish to show no altruism to those who saved your life then at least do it for revenge. They stole your brother from you, and I can make them pay."

Yury looked thrown back for a moment before he slowly gathered the tea pot and poured himself another cup of emptiness, sipping as if entranced in though. He put the cup down again before turning his gaze back unto the purple dragon.

"You know what young dragon, It has been long since I last tasted blood. What do you want?"

Five minutes later Spyro emerged from the cell, guilty yet victorious. He immediately bumped into Remas, who had waited outside, intent on seeing the results.

"You lied to him." She hissed to him in a low voice. Spyro sighed but replied.

"I had to, if not then the whole meeting would have been in senseless vanity."

Remas narrowed her eyes but nodded. "Then whatever works I guess. Now on a separate matter, I overhead you offering him a place with my soldiers."

"He was once a soldier too, and you were the one who said that you're troops had no value on their own lives." Spyro replied. Remas glared at him but shifted her eyes to peer back into the cell.

"You know what, this time I will allow it." She snapped her eyes back to Spyro. "But next time, pull this off again and I will have your tongue." With that she turned and left, leaving Spyro to his own devices.

-Two Hours from Sunrise at Castle Bastilon-

Spyro glanced back at the two scores of dragons behind him before taking a breath, letting his magic pool, before vanishing into time. In a flash he had passed through scores of black clad Legionnaries standing guard at the wall and had brushed inside and secured a safe hiding spot in an empty room by the time his magic was expended. Time resumed and outside he could hear startled yells as a gust of wind brushed past the guards. In his mind he recreated the floorplan described to him by Yury. If the Dark Master had indeed something of worth here it would be in the cells in the lower floor. Having gathered enough magic again, he plunged back into time and within a fraction of a second the armory door was before him, the keys in his claws, and the guard still staring blankly at some distant point. With the remaining time he had left, Spyro threw open the door, expecting dark crystal or some experimental weapon. His face dropped when the only sight that greeted him were some spears and health crystals.

"What?" Spyro whispered to himself whilst he dug through the supplies but sure enough other than a few weapons and armor, the armory lay empty. He could feel his grasp loosen again and with a quick though he shut the doors of the armory just as time resumed. Outside the tapping of an approaching patrol entered his hearing range and through the thick doors he could hear glimpses of words.

"Have you heard about the prisoner?"

"Yeah, who hasn't? He was quick the unexpected find." Spyro's eyes narrowed. The Legionnaries only retook the city weeks ago, the only ones here should be the defenders. The voices drifted past and he was again left alone in thought.

"An unexpected find? A single prisoner?" His mind was quick to find an answer. Both Ignitus and Terrador had been captured. If one of them had been leading the defense of the city, when it was stricken then they would have no choice but to surrender or risk the death of all their men. He had to find the dungeon. Glancing back into the armory stock, he spied multiple magic crystals, which he quickly broke and absorbed, feeling the power increase to an excess. With this, he disappeared again and leapt down to the first floor and into the great doors leading to the subterranean dungeons.

As he pushed through the doors he was immediately struck with a great unease and weakness. Looking around, he saw that the entire hall and every sell was laced with dark crystals, effectively rendering the prisoners unable to use their breath powers.

To Spyro's horror his time power soon withered away, leaving him exposed to any dragon nearby though this was soon overshadowed by the sight that lay in front of him.

In a distant cell lay a hulking green mass which Spyro immediately recognized as Terrador. He was barely breathing and his normally forest green scales were caked with blood. Spyro immediately ran to the cell door and peered inside.

"Terrador!" He hissed urgently to no avail. Spyro hissed in frustration and snaked his tail between the bars, jabbing the Earth dragon painfully in the arm. With a feral snarl the earth guardian's eyes shot open and before Spyro could react he had grabbed him through the bars into a tight vice with his front paws. For a moment Spyro felt himself being pressed under crushing force before the Earth dragon realized what was going on.

"Spyro? What are you doing here?" Terrador hissed quietly, hoping that the commotion hadn't attracted the attention of the guards outside. His booming voice nonetheless still reverberating through the empty halls.

"Where is everyone else? Where is Ignitus?" Spyro replied.

"Dead or escaped, there weren't many left after the battle, I was brought here with the rest and one by one they've been taken. Ignitus I have no idea, he went to the Valley of Avalar to assist the cheetah village. Their ape problem has only been exacerbated by the pressure of the war around them." Terrador coughed and lifted a bruised paw to wipe a splatter of blood from his face.

Spyro looked around, indeed there was only remnants within the cells that showed that they once contained prisoners. He winced at the sight but turned his attention back to the lock.

"I need to get you out of here." He whispered and summoned his fire, only to feel whatever magic he acquired to abruptly be dragged from him. The dark crystals above him glowed slightly.

"Damn…." He cursed under his breath.

"The door, there are guards outside with the key." Terrador croaked. Spyro remembered the two Legionnaire guards outside the door. Taking two on he didn't have an issue with but with an entire garrison within the castle walls he could soon become surrounded. With an injured dragon with him the odds were pretty stacked. He needed a distraction….

"The raid." He whispered to himself, remembering that Remas was at the helm of a strike team poised for the attack. The moment the sun rose and blinded the Legionnaries facing the city they were going to attack. He had lost track of time since he entered but they should be on the move soon.

A distant explosion that rocked the thick walls confirmed his idea. Outside, the frenzied yells of soldiers and clanking armor reminded him of his task. He flew across the dungeon and placed his ear against the thick doors, listening carefully. When the footsteps disappeared he carefully pushed the door, spying the two guards still there. He slunk forward and froze when the door emitted a long creak. In a spit second both dragons were staring at him, confused as to why anyone would be exiting the dungeon but this shock disappeared just a quickly and the first dragon let loose a barrage of ice spikes at his face. Spyro rolled backwards, letting them fly above his head before answering with a surge of fire… which promptly disappeared with his magic. Spyro cursed again and charged against the wall, flipping over the first dragon and landing on top of the second, smashing his head against the floor and knocking him out cold. With the crystals no longer in effect he raised an earth barrier in between him and the other dragon just as the ice spikes cracked against the stone before releasing the power and sending the chunks of earth hurtling at the other dragon at intense speeds. The loud cracking sounds that followed rang in his ears but when the dust settled the dragon lay unconscious with a nasty bruise on his forehead. Spyro breathed out and searched the dragon, grinning when he fished out a key ring from a pocket. He turned back to Terrador and rushed back to the cell, sliding the key in and unlocking the guardian from his prison. The earth dragon shakily rose to his paws and stretched his wings before with a powerful tail smash shattered the crystal nearest to him. Immediately a green aura surrounded him and for a moment he looked renewed.

"Let's go." He grunted and limped towards the door. Outside, somewhere far way the sounds of battle rang in their ears.

Spyro hurriedly shoved open the door and rushed outside before gesturing Terrador to follow. The larger dragon could only move slowly but they slowly navigated the corridors with the information Spyro gained from Yury. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The sounds of clashing armor was now right in front of them. Suddenly the door above flew open and Spyro tensed, expecting an attack only to be met with a familiar face. Farro, bloodied with minor cuts, halted right in front of him.

"Spyro! Terrador! Come on! We've got to go now."

"What of the resistance?" Spyro replied.

"Dead, at least the lot of them, the Dark Master's puppet is here, we didn't stand a chance here against her elements." Farro quickly gestured for them to follow when another figure rushed through the door, this time dressed in the armor of a Legionnaire. The adult dragon stopped when his eyes stopped at Spyro and for a moment the two stared at each other. The new dragon was soon followed by dozens of soldiers who pointed their swords and pikes at the three.

"Well hello there Spyro, what a fortunate evening this is." He cracked open his mouth into a smile, allowing flashed of electricity to arch across his scales.

"Reyden…" Spyro hissed. He turned to Farro.

"Is there any way out?"

"No, we have to get upstairs, damn, I didn't think anyone followed me." Farro growled. Spyro turned back to face the soldiers.

"Then we have to fight." He immediately threw a wall of earth at the entrance, trying to use the narrow corridor to his advantage but another earth bullet shot up just as quickly, cracking both in mid-air. With this initial attack the soldiers raised shield and lowered spears before charging.

At some point in the melee Spyro found himself isolated from the others as the flood of soldiers poured into the room. He ducked under a sword and kicked out the legs of the soldier in front of him before a searing arc of electricity grazed his side, throwing him against another soldier and knocking them both down. He leapt back to his feet and rolled under another arc of lightning that exploded somewhere behind him. Reyden stood there, his eyes filled with fury and perhaps exhilaration but neither of these registered in Spyro's mind as they leap t at each other. Reyden's greater mass allowed for him to easily shove the purple dragon back and they tumbled with him landing on top, using his weight t hold the purple dragon down. With a laugh he sent his entire reserve of electricity down into the drake under him. The purple dragon tensed and convulsed for a moment before the charge seemingly dissipated into the ground. A stone slab shot out and impacted the older dragon's snout with a sickening crack, forcing him back, howling. He glared up at the unharmed purple dragon.

"Fine, I don't need my elements." He pulled out a standard short sword.

Spyro eyed him carefully when Terrador's bellowing howl caused him to turn. To his horror the earth guardian was now stuck with two spears from his side and in his weakened state, had long since expended his energy.

"Terrador!" Farro shoved through the bodies in front of him, trying to reach the fallen dragon but the Legionnaries soon had him trapped and fighting for his life. The Earth dragon took one last look at the hopeless situation before glowing bright green.

The foundation of the castle shook violently, throwing all dragons present off their feet. A single brick fell, before another and another cascaded down like rain down against the ground. Spyro's eyes widened as he realized what the Earth guardian had done. Suddenly, two spire of rock shoved him into the air and throw the rubble before crumbling too, leaving him and Farro fluttering awkwardly as their wings sought lift.

"We have to go now!" Farro exclaimed and shot upwards, dodging the falling bricks and chunks of building. Spyro cast one last look at the the carnage before grimacing and following his friend, rolling and weaving to avoid colliding with the dangerous pieces of falling building. Then they were free. The trails of dust disappearing as they emerged into the rising sun. The city emerged before them, strangely placid amidst the turmoil at its core.

"Let's go, the Legionnaries on the walls will be here any second!" Farro shook him out of his daze and shot towards the clouds high above. Spyro looked around and indeed dragons clad in black armor were rushing low over the rooftops towards the epicenter. He followed Farro skyward.

"Damn it, we lost Terrador!" The electric dragon snarled when he caught up. If only Remas had listened and brought more soldiers."

"Remas made a mistake, and she paid for it with his life. As did Yury and all the soldiers at her command. However, with the city in disarray, the imperial army should be able to retake it. Spyro cut him off.

Farro sighed and stayed silent as they emerged above the clouds before saying. "Whatever, we need to get back to Warfang, The other guardians must hear about this." He turned towards the sky.

"Yeah, which way to Warfang?" Spyro looked around him.

"Spyro! Look out!" Farro's warning came too late for the purple dragon as an immense shadow fell upon him and drove him towards the ground. The clouds fell by at an alarming speed as the purple dragon struggled against the black claws that gripped him. He opened his eyes and froze as two huge crimson red ones stared back at him.

"I was hoping that we would meet again."

Cackling laughter cut through the wind, which was now screeching like sirens by his ears. His body ached at the speed. He opened his mouth to fire his elements only for a cloud of black, unknown element to smother his head, cutting off all his air. He struggled feebly against the presser but the claws that held him remained firm. His struggling as abruptly cut short when the ground came to meet both dragons and throughout the entire city another deafening blast shattered windows and threw up a cloud of dust.


End file.
